#but after winning she realises oh. it really all is just tv cameras and hot air.
Note
Ur rainduo hunger games au is just chef’s kiss. It’s so good!!!
Like niki and wilbur being friends and then wilbur disappears and she thinks he’s dead but he’s not?? And then she’s like I need to win I need to get him out of here. She’s like I am so angry but I can not show it. Like????? And her burning the forest down really suits her (I’m thinking of her burning down l’mantree) and then she hates fire but her branding is now fire +girlboss and she’s just like noooo no thank u. I’ve seen enough fire in my lifetime.
And wilbur is like a shaken up soda bottle. The lid is on tight but that does not mean that the liquid is calm. All u need is to take the lid off and it will explode everywhere. Yeah.
Anyways i love this au it is so cool!!!!
YEAH niki is such a straightforward character and she doesn't suffer the timewasting and arrogance of politics compared to so many other characters and so when her name gets pulled, she knows her odds of making it are just too low and she can't be bothered bullshitting that. she's not going to get up there and prance around for the cameras and pretend that everything is okay. it's not okay. she's not even a good liar in the first place. she has her parents presumably back home and a few friends in 12 so there's not much she can do, but there's a certain point where she just can't bring herself to participate. and then she finds wilbur, and the entire situation flips.
he is depending on her!! niki made peace with the idea of her own death as soon as her name was called at the reaping but this is an entire tidal wave of emotions that she already cannot compute. like the worst kind of grief and anger and survivors guilt. and if she loses, no one will rescue him. no one will even know he's there. and then that too, that's gonna be her fault. and even then, she gets these flashes of absolute rage...
she's so fucking lucky she has jack as a mentor to remind her of exactly the right way to smile so they can't see how tightly you clench your jaw. hbomb giving her these intricate hand braces so she can't visibly clench her fists when she talks so sweetly about winning the games and going home to her friends and making her district proud. and then she gets back to the tribute living spaces and tears her room apart in a whirlwind of burning anger, and then stays up late putting every stupid knick knack back together in case rumours spread because she needs to keep her reputation as the Sweet, Kind, Nicey Nice Girl from district 12 intact to win over sponsors.
and yea the forest fire is fucking traumatising. i can't remember if this is a canon hunger games thing or if my brain saw some fanon eight years ago and is running with it but i imagine once you win the games they slap all that megahealing shit into you so she wakes up in some private capitol hospital room and, beyond what she even thought was possible, the burns are gone. and she doesn't even know how that works but they must have done a pretty shit job because she can still fucking feel the fire beneath her skin.
you won and you got out! she gets wilbur out. maybe. but it's only really after the games that she realises she's never gonna be able to go home again. she should feel relieved to be alive at least, but all she feels is burning and a miserable, endless pit in her chest instead.
A SHAKEN UP SODA BOTTLE..... you're so fucking right KSHKDHDKD. wilbur is v interesting to me because like.... i think there's a bitter and hurting part of him that still blames himself above anyone else for getting caught. but he's been here for seven years. he has seen some horrible shit happen. wilbur has a tendency for self-hatred but he's not massively easily manipulated until someone is pushing him towards something he already wanted (thinking of how dream treated him in pogtopia.)
i think niki being reaped is a tipping point for him. like, he's not stupid. he's walked into the last seven years of reapings going not niki, and then not niki, not fundy, and then not niki not fundy please god not tommy and so on. and then the worst outcome happens, and niki barely manages to survive but only by swallowing her own voice and going through some terrible shit. wilbur saw that, he got to see it on live TV while pouring wine and retrieving stupidly rich food for stupidly rich people while he remembers arguing with tommy about whether they could eat a possum because at the time, that was their best option. it is one thing for him to be here. he has accepted that as his own fault (even if he probably shouldn't). but shoving niki through the meatgrinder? his kind, clever niki, who (in wilbur's eyes) has done nothing wrong in her entire fucking life? something needs to change, and he will bend steel with his bare fucking hands to make it happen.
now, to figure out how to do all that and actually stay alive.
the thing with wilbur that always stands out to me is that he's a character in motion. he doesn't stop. i think after being captured and having his tongue cut out and being tortured, he would obviously suffer greatly - but he wouldn't stop. his voice meant everything to him, and even though it's physically gone, part of him so venerates its absence that he cannot stop himself from trying to sustain it, to "bring it back", even if it sounds different now. even if it's all locked away in his mind. now, that is where he keeps everything he wants to say. he keeps his mind sharp over those years - reciting the names and birthdays of his friends in 12 so he doesn't forget them, tracing words across the wall when he's supposed to be sleeping so his handwriting stays neat enough to read. he's waiting, he just doesn't know for what.
and then niki is reaped. that's what.
#i kind of see nikis attitude towards the games (to start with) as somewhere between peeta in 1 and johanna in 2#she has too many people she cares about to be as blisteringly angry as johanna but she's a bad fucking liar#she doesn't want the games to change her. and to be fair they don't change her in the way she expects#she doesn't want to have her personality swallowed up by the capitol because that is how she and her friends have always seen the victors#but after winning she realises oh. it really all is just tv cameras and hot air.#everyone from jack to the hardest career is fucking traumatised#and wilbur is. SO HEAVILY REPRESSING HIS FEELINGS to stay alive because there is no room for error#but silently he's fuming. they took a fucking lot from him but they couldn't take the belief that there's something better than this#if anything they hammered it in#OUGH. they're very. yeah#thanks the the ask mye !!! how ya doing#asks#hunger games au#aunonnies
6 notes
·
View notes
Text
Shrunkyclunks (Modern Bucky/Cap Steve) Fic Rec
Hate Sex & Hair Protocol by @maddiewritesstucky - Mature, 1.8k
SHIELD Agent Bucky, UST, Enemies to Lovers (in Steve’s head), Humor
They’re all full of shit, Steve decides.
His team don’t have a clue what they’re talking about, running their mouths about the way he and Bucky look at each other; the tension that seems to be at a constant near-snapping point between them.
'It’s called annoyance' Steve wants to yell in each of their faces, loud and one by one. It’s the pain of having to exist every day in close proximity with someone who drives you out of your fucking mind.
---
In which Steve discovers that ire and desire may just exist side by side in his brain.
Stop interrupting my grinding series by @rohkeutta - Teen, 2.5k
Nurse Bucky, Wrong Number, Fluff, Humor
“I tried to call Sam,” Captain America says, bewildered. He’s sprinting like Usain Bolt and doesn’t sound even a little out of breath. Fucker. “Who’re you?”
“Someone who’s watching you live on TV,” Bucky tells him as the tiny patriotic figure on the screen takes the turns like he instructed. Bucky should probably be a lot more freaked out about this, but honestly? After a tour in the Middle East and six years as a nurse in New York, even this isn’t enough to ruffle him. One sees a lot of shit in the ER. “Also, you better hang up now, that thing is behind the next bend.”
“Uh, okay,” Captain America says. “Thanks?”
“Whatever,” Bucky says, disconnects the call and turns the TV off to get ready for his shift.
Save a Horse, Ride a Captain by @galwednesday - Teen, 2.7k
War Vet Bucky, Meet Cute, Fluff, Humor, Modern Howlies
Bucky tapped him on the shoulder, swaying back and forth a little as he waited for the man to turn around. “Hello,” he said, and then promptly forgot what else he was going to say, because this guy was fucking beautiful. “Wow. Good face.”
Two of the guy’s friends, a man wearing a suit that fit so well it had to be bespoke and a man with a cute little gap between his front teeth, started cracking up. The petite redhead sitting next to them cocked her head to the side and pulled her phone out of her handbag. Beautiful Face just looked kind of pained, so Bucky redirected. He was a gentleman. He could take a hint. No hitting on beautiful guys who were uncomfortable with that sort of thing, no matter how lickable their jawlines were.
“Hello,” he repeated, doing his best to mind his manners. “I’m very sorry to bother you. Can I have a piggy-back ride?”
You Make My Heart Skip A Beet by @musette22 - Teen, 3.8k
Chef Bucky, POV Outsider, Fluff, Humor
“I made soda bread.”
Steve lets out the 6’2” supersoldier equivalent of a squeak. “Oh, I love soda bread,” he says eagerly, rolling forward on the balls of his feet like he does when he gets excited. “My mom used to make it all the time when I was growing up.”
The tips of Barnes’s ears turn red, and he mutters something that sounds suspiciously like, “I know.”
more under the cut
Cafe Au Écoute by @littlesystems - Teen, 3.8k
Coffee Shop AU
No matter where Steve goes, there's always the chance that he'll overhear a conversation about himself - or rather, Captain America. This coffee shop is no different. The fact that he keeps eavesdropping well past the point of plausible deniability is another matter entirely.
#TweetMeDaddy by StarSpangled - Teen, 4.1k
SHIELD Employee Bucky, Misunderstandings, Crack, Humor
Coulson, for his part, stares up at Bucky with such a betrayed look of frozen horror that Natasha actually goes the extra step and presses another button, capturing the moment and airdropping the photograph to her phone for posterity. When he speaks, his voice comes out as a hoarse whisper. “Why…?” He swallows and starts again, trying for some semblance of normality. “...Why would you tweet something like that?!”
“If you must know, sir,” and somehow he manages to make ‘sir’ come out with the same inflection most people reserve for ‘motherfucking son of a bitch’, “it’s because I have a difficult time doing my job when my job involves monitoring the man with the best fucking ass in the United States of America.” He slowly lowers himself back into his seat until he’s at eye level, making extreme eye contact with Coulson until Coulson turns away to make mortified eye contact in Natasha’s general direction through the one-way glass. Natasha would take another picture, if she weren’t too busy catching Steve’s red-faced sputtering. “Sometimes, I vent to my Twitter followers. Sometimes, it’s about hot men with washboard abs. Can I go now, or do you need a graphic description of how I pleasure myself at night?”
at first chance i'd take the bed warmed by the body by @spacebuck - Explicit, 8.2k
YouTuber Bucky
This close, Steve can see exactly how beautiful his hands are. He’s never really noticed before, or at least he’s never really had a reason to notice, but the man’s hands are large, tanned like he works outside all day. There’s an endearing callus on the heel of one of his palms, and Steve can’t quite work out when calluses became endearing.
Steve pauses the video. Swallows hard. Casts his eyes around for anything that’ll keep his mind off the hands on his screen, off the words inked into those hands, the delicate shape of a bird’s wing, the curling edge of a vine.
He looks down. The name of the channel is right there, blaring the man’s name right into Steve’s brain until it feels like he’s known it all along.
Bucky Barnes.
OR: the one where Bucky's a youtuber who solves puzzles on camera, and steve's smitten and horny
Came with my cool (I dropped it) by @liionne - Teen, 9.2k
Yoga Instructor Bucky
"When you said I need to loosen up, I didn't think you meant literally."
"I meant it every way. Mentally, emotionally, and physically." Natasha says, and thrusts a yoga mat at him.
there once was a diamond by bloobeary - Teen, 11.3k
Fluff, Thanksgiving
"You," Becca seethes, and hits him with a wooden spoon. "Could have told me," Hits him again. "You were dating Captain America." Final hit, Bucky laughs. He supposes he deserves it, giving her no more information than the fact he was bringing his boyfriend to Thanksgiving dinner at her house and then showing up with Steve.
Salt by littleblackfox @thelittleblackfox - Mature, 12k
Bakery AU
The cinnamon roll is gone in four bites. Four indecent, jaw-unhinging bites, and Steve sucks the last traces of lemon and icing from his fingers with a low, throaty sound of satisfaction. He glances up at Bucky, who is leaning against the counter and watching him with avid fascination.
“Um…” Steve says around his index finger. There’s still a little icing on the bed of his fingernail, and he stops trying to work it off with his tongue.
“You know those movies where the girl eats an eclair or something, and it’s really, like, sexually charged?” Bucky asks.
Steve pulls his finger out of his mouth. He’s never seen that kind of movie, but the thought of Bucky eating an eclair is certainly… well, it lingers. “Uh?”
“Yeah, well that was the exact opposite.” Steve scowls, and Bucky cackles gleefully. “You are something else, Steve.”
Leg Day by Brokenpitchpipe - Explicit, 12.1k
Gym Thot Bucky
“So talk to him,” Sam says.
“I can’t,” Bucky groans. “I can’t, Sam, I. He just.” He fluffs his hair up and stares at Sam, distraught. “I want him to bench press me.”
“Okay, so it’s serious,” Sam interprets. “Got it."
(Or: The one where Sam is Bucky's long-suffering roommate, Bucky is a hot mess of a millennial, and Hot Steve spends far too much time on the Lat Pull-Down machine.)
Art Nouveau by voluptuous_panic - Explicit, 12.2k
Bartender Bucky, Tattooed & Pierced Bucky
Steve's on the worst date of his life. At least the bartender's cute.
much tattoo about nothing by @deisderium - Explicit, 14.5k
Tattoo Artist Bucky
Steve Rogers gets a lot of email requests, but never one like this: James Barnes wants to use his healing factor to practice tattoos.
Turns out tattoos give Steve boners.
No Wonder There's Panic in the Industry by sprinkle_of_cinnamon - Not Rated (I’d say Mature?), 20.5k
Stark Industries Intern Bucky, Team fic, Humor
In which Bucky Barnes and his BFF, Clint Barton, are NYU interns for Stark Media Group competing to be Pepper's favorite.
Or alternatively, the time Bucky assisted the P.A. team on the Steve Rogers piece and ended up (adopted) with a contact list full of Avengers.
Life of the Party by @aggressivewhenstartled - Explicit, 21.6k
Superhero Impersonator Bucky, Mistaken Identity
“You know, kids,” Steve heard from the backyard, “one of the most common threats a superhero has to face is inside an active volcano! We’re going to have to work on your evasion skills, so for the next five minutes, the floor is lava!” This was met by a sudden spike in both volume and pitch from the small children as they scrambled onto every raised surface they could find and immediately launched themselves right back off.
“I’ve never seen actual lava in my entire life,” Steve said, vaguely offended.
“You got a superhero impersonator for The Falcon’s niece’s birthday party,” Sam said, incredulous. “The Falcon, who is an actual superhero.”
Trust Enough by @geneticallydead - Explicit, 23.3k
Misunderstandings
“Saturday. Yeah, that’s good,” Steve says, and actually scuffs his shoe at the ground. Like a ridiculous shy superhero damsel. “Say eight? I live-“
“Yeah, big building with the A on it,” Bucky says, and can’t help a big stupid grin. Steve stares at him, looking a little dazed, and after their whole conversation it’s only now that Bucky’s brain catches up and realises Steve finds him quite attractive. So. Win for Bucky.
“Let me get your number,” Steve says finally, after they’ve stared stupidly at each other for about three hours, taking out his phone.
So they exchange numbers, and then Steve says he should go, and Bucky agrees, and they kind of stare at each other for a bit more, then Steve actually does go, but not before taking Bucky’s hand and squeezing it warmly in a way that makes Bucky want to shiver all over. Then Steve is gone, and Bucky is standing alone in the alley, grinning to himself.
Right up until the moment he remembers that Steve thinks Bucky is an escort he’s just hired.
Well fuck.
The Roommate by layersofart, Niitza - Teen, 28.6k
War Vet Bucky, Roommates AU, Humor, Fluff, Angst, Team fic
In which Steven G. Rogers, a.k.a. Captain America, gets a roommate. Who rapidly turns into his "roommate"—in the euphemistic sense of the word.
It takes SHIELD and the rest of the Avengers an absurd amount of time to notice.
Brooklyn Baby by sprinkle_of_cinnamon - Mature, 33.7k
Coffee Shop AU, Modern Howlies, Mistaken Identity, Team Fic
In which Bucky is just trying to live life and enjoy his unofficial official table at the obnoxiously hipster coffee shop but some guy named Steve stole his spot.
Or, the time that Bucky unintentionally befriended the Avengers and had no idea.
Never Talk to Strangers by mambo @whtaft - Teen, 40.4k
Grad Student Bucky, Slow Burn
Never Talk to Strangers: or; How a Forgotten Childhood Lesson Led Bucky Barnes to Appreciate Charlie Chaplin, Befriend an A.I., Slip on Soap Bubbles, Be Mistaken for a Succubus, and Try to Woo a Superhero.
Sinking Our Teeth In The Heart Of The Sun by fallendarlings @pressrestartwrites - Explicit, 102.8k
Single Dad Bucky, Kid Fic, Slow Burn, Domestic, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Steve has Autism
Bucky Barnes never intended to become a single father at 25. But life has always enjoyed kicking him while he's down and it's showing no signs of stopping. A chance meeting with a brick wall of a guy named Steve in the formula aisle of the grocery store leads to a friendship it seems like both of them need. If only Bucky could remember that's all they are- friends. If only Steve didn't slot into their lives so perfectly and look so good spoiling Bucky's daughter (and Bucky, despite his protests).
Oh, if only Steve didn't turn out to be Captain America.
Steve Rogers is wandering around a world that he doesn't fit into, fighting for a government that he doesn't trust, just because he doesn't know what to do with himself if he ever relaxes long enough to actually think about anything other than the next mission.
And then came Bucky Barnes and his newborn baby.
More recs
#stucky#stevebucky#stucky fic#stucky fic rec#shrunkyclunks#stucky fanfic#stucky fanfiction#steve x bucky#my stucky recs#fic tag#mine#fic rec#mcu fic#tumblr ate this the first time [my longest sigh ever]#i read art nouveau for the first time last week and I've been thinking about it ever since
120 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Girl Next Door
It was early in the morning and I'd just risen from my marital bed. Melanie and I had been married for ten years. She had long since gone to her work so the space beside me was cold and empty. I work from home so I set my own hours, usually about ten a day. I remembered that my boxers shorts were all in the wash but I had a fresh pair in the dryer so I walked out to the utility room, naked, which is how I sleep. Throwing a damp towel in with the pants, I turned the dryer on to get the wrinkles out and headed for some coffee. It had long since gone cold, so I stuck a cupful in the microwave while I put some things out for breakfast. With a hot cup of coffee in hand, I walked through the house to boot up the computer. A quick check of my email and I went back to the kitchen, cup in hand, with no thought whatsoever that I was stark naked.
I’ve never had any qualms about being naked in my own house since we live in a very small town and there are only a few houses on our street, and we sit back off the street about 25 feet. There are blinds in the kitchen, but at six in the morning no one is going to be looking in my windows anyway. I mean, what are the odds that someone will be staring into my window at six in the morning on the outside chance that they’ll see me naked... they’d be welcome to the view!
When the buzzer on the dryer went off, I finished my coffee and went to get the clothes out. My hand had just touched the dryer door when the phone rang. Padding back into the kitchen, I picked up the phone to hear our neighbour's voice on the line.
"That's a very nice outfit you're wearing," she cooed.
I felt like an idiot. There I stood, stark naked, in front of the big window in the breakfast room. I jumped back to take shelter behind the cabinets.
"Rachel, what the hell are you doing looking in my window?" I yelled.
"Hell Jeff, I thought you were putting on a show for me. I'm not complaining, why are you? I just told you I liked what I saw."
"Is that all you wanted?" I asked. "I've got things to do and one of them is not making my neighbour wet. Take a cold shower or something."
"Hold on, hot shot, I need to talk to you."
"Oh, for... let me get some jeans on so I don't let it all hang out."
"Whatever," she replied. "I don't care if you're naked or not. I just need to talk to you right away."
I pulled my jeans on, remembering too late that I had a brass button and a now very hot zipper on them. After cursing a few times and pulling the hot metal away from my flesh, I finally got them snapped and zipped.
"If you're looking for Melanie, you missed her. She works the early shift today."
"I knew that, Jeff. I've been waiting for her to leave so we could talk."
"Talk? Talk about what?"
"Let's just say it's something you don't want to discuss in front of your wife."
I leaned over to search for some bagels that I'd picked up the night before, thinking about my neighbour watching me naked through that window. I never considered Rachel to be anything other than my neighbour. She moved in six months ago, she worked in forensics or something and she was at least a dozen years younger than me. She was petite and dropdeadgorgeous for sure, but she wasn’t on my radar. Rachel was much younger than me and I had a perfectly pretty wife. But... Rachel was... quite pleasant to look at... I guess. Yes, I had fantasised about her. Any man would! Her shoulder length auburn hair and sparkling blue eyes highlight her creamy complexion. She always wore oversized sweatshirts or tee shirts that were dark enough and large enough that you see no hint of how she's built, and I've spent a lot of time staring at her, guessing at what that shirt covered. I'd seen enough of her ass as she bent over to know that it was damned nice. She was a gorgeous minx and I often struggled to take my eyes off her.
"Should I be worried about where this is going?" I asked.
"I hope not," she replied, "but I don't think so."
"I guess you've got the advantage over me because I have no idea what you're trying to say."
"What would your wife say if she found out that you've been cheating on her?"
I damned near choked on my bagel. "What the hell are you talking about? I haven't been cheating on her."
"Oh really? Would you like to bet that I can convince her that you have?"
I didn't reply for a minute, suddenly realising that it wouldn't be all that hard to do since she's been insinuating for a long time that I have. Visions of being kicked out flashed through my mind. It wouldn't be the first time, but it wasn't something I'd like to repeat.
"Ok, ok, what are you saying? You know I don't have any money, Rachel. Hell, I'm trying to figure out how to pay my bills as it is."
"I don't want your damned money, Jeff. I'm not hurting for cash. Hell, I probably have more than you do. No, it's not money that I'm looking for."
"DAMN IT Rachel, what do you want?"
"Calm down, Jeff. No need to get excited. Why don't you come over and have some coffee with me so we can talk face to face. I think you'll be glad you did."
"You're a crazy, woman. You've lost your mind. If Melanie was to find out you've even seen me naked, she'd board up the damned window and quit her job so she could keep an eye on me. If one of the neighbours saw me coming over there and let it slip, it would be all over but the crying and you know it."
"I know that, but no one has to see you come over here. There's a way to take care of that."
"Damn it, Rachel, I can't do that. Can't you talk to me now?"
"I could, but I don't think I want to. I could come over there but if you want to keep this quiet, me walking into your house would be the last thing our neighbours needed to see. Think about it Jeff. I've already seen you naked and you know I can convince her of anything I want. You don't have to worry about me slipping up and letting her find out what's going on while she's gone. She'll never know unless you tell her. Get some shoes on and drive around the block. Pull in Sophie’s drive and park back where they park the motor home. They're gone for the summer and no one can see you there because of the bushes. I'll leave the back garage door open for you. Fifteen minutes, Jeff, that's all I'll wait."
The sound of the dial tone was all I heard after that. I slammed the phone down and went to sit on my recliner, where I do my best thinking. I stared at the clock as the second hand swept around, mumbling to myself about that damned infuriating woman. What the hell did she want anyway? To hell with it, let her tell Melanie whatever she wanted to. I'd catch hell and we'd fight like two cats for a week or two but that's all. What the hell, if she kicked me out, I'd be fine. Then the real world got hold of me. We wouldn't fight like cats at all, she'd scream for weeks about my infidelity and in the end, I'd be kicked out and I'd be screwed. There's no way I have enough money to make it. She'd get the house and I'd get the shaft and wind up living in a shack.
It had been almost ten minutes when I slipped into my shoes and went out to the garage, knowing she was watching me every minute. I drove down the street and turned as though I was going to town, then looped around and slipped into Sophie’s drive, pulling as far into the bushes as I could get. The back door of her garage was open so I slipped in and closed it behind me.
Her car was in the garage and she waited for me at the foot of the stairs that led to their game room over the garage. Neither of us said a word as I followed her up the stairs, watching the sway of her ass under the loose sweats she wore.
Their game room covers the whole second story of the two car garage. A professional sized pool table sits in one corner, while an oversized six sided card table sat in the opposite corner. A dart board is on one wall and a big screened TV sits below it. The other wall is blank paneling behind a fair sized wet bar.
She sat on the oversized couch and patted seat next to her. I headed for one of the bar stools but she stopped me. "You don't want to upset me Jeff but I want you to watch a video."
I sat next to her as she turned the TV on. After a few scenes from an old porn film, I saw our house. As I watched, the camera zoomed in on that big window to show me walking back and forth, stark naked. There was a shot of me bent over the dryer, taking clothes out, and one of me putting my breakfast on the table, then sitting down to eat. Then there was a shot of me with my cock in my hands as I milked it pretty hard. Seconds later, I hurried from the kitchen and I knew I was headed for some tissues. All of a sudden, I saw some more footage of me with my cock in my hands, but then another hand reached over to stroke up and down...a feminine hand. A few seconds later, I saw the naked back of what was obviously a woman's head, evidently as she went down on me.
"What the fuck, Rachel? Who is that? I've never had another woman in that house and you know it."
"Umm, I don't know, Jeff. She sure looks like she's standing right in front of you and I'd bet money she's sucking your cock. More importantly though, is that Melanie will believe it. That and about another twenty minutes of it."
"What's going on here, Rachel?: I asked. "What are you saying?"
"I decided a long time ago that you needed more action, Jeff, and I'm just the one to give it to you."
"That's blackmail," I replied.
"I don't think so Jeff. Coercion, perhaps but not blackmail. I don't want money, I just want you to fuck me silly sometimes. We both win and no one gets hurt. That video will never be seen again as long as you take care of my needs and I take care of yours."
"What the hell makes you think I need more than I'm getting?" I asked.
"Jeff, Jeff, Jeff, you jack off every time you're alone, sometimes two and three times in one day. That doesn't sound like a satisfied man to me. I haven't had an orgasm in months and damn it, I'm going to get them and you're going to help me."
"You're out of your mind, Rachel. I'm not..."
"Stand up Jeff," she ordered.
I have no idea why I did it, but I did. She walked around me, looking at the cock that was acting like it had a mind of its own. "Take your jeans off,"
"I don't think so," I replied, not moving to do so.
The next thing I knew, my jeans were yanked down, scraping over my semihard cock, giving me a jolt of pain. Before I could say anything, her hand was wrapped around my cock, sliding the tender flesh up and down my shaft. I groaned involuntarily but she took that as a sign I was enjoying it and continued. When I tried to push her hand away, she slapped at my hand and rammed the skin back so hard it was painful.
"I can hurt you if that's what you want Jeff, or I can rock your socks. It's up to you, but I promise you that I will have my way with you. Either that or the video goes to Melanie. You can destroy that one if you wish," she said, as though she was reading my mind, "but it isn't the original. Now it's time for you to decide if you want me to rape you, share some great sex, or send out the video. It's up to you."
My slumping shoulders must have been the only signal that she needed because she smiled wrapped her hand around my cock and balls. "I knew I could get you to cooperate," she said, pulling me to her by my cock. "Now let's get serious."
She pushed me back to the couch and started a slow strip. My cock was like a flag pole as she stripped off the sweatshirt and allowed her breasts their freedom. I was grateful that she didn't wear a bra but then she really didn't need one. She was about a 32A or B, small but as firm as a ripe melons, with nipples that stood out proudly, long and begging. Her sweats went next and she stood before me in nothing but black thongs. Good Lord, what a body! She was so different to Mel. Melanie was tall and skinny. She was fragile and waif like. Rachel was a hot, petite woman with curves in all the right places. Damn, I was hard as a rock with precum slipping down over my knob.
She crawled up on the couch then, straddling me, with her hands on the back of the couch. That put her wet pussy right at the same level as my face. "Eat me," she ordered, as she spread herself as wide as her knees would allow. I put my head back and reached my tongue up to lick over her thighs and the edge of her pussy lips. She moaned and pushed into my face, forcing me to reach up and spread her pussy open, while my tongue dove into her core, then started lapping at her. I love to eat a woman. I love the drama, the emotions, the eroticism of her sounds and her actions. The more audible they are, the more I try to make them moan, groan, mewl, gasp and beg for more. The ultimate high is the sound of the orgasm building, tearing them apart as my tongue lashes at their clit and into the special little spot just below it. When they slip over the top, I am in heaven.
When she came, she gushed. It's something every man dreams of but most women can't accomplish. She filled my mouth over and over again with her hot cum and I sucked every drop of her I could handle. It covered my face, my throat and my chest and I loved every minute of it.
I held her to me while I lapped at her thighs and up her ass crack to caress that hot button with my tongue. She gasped and opened herself to me while I licked into it, trying to get my tongue inside. My cock was standing high and anxious as she lowered herself onto me. The walls of her tight pussy engulfed me and pulled me in until she was completely down on me, my cock buried deep inside that hot pussy. I held her there, enjoying the feel of her wetness and the pulsing of her pussy walls until she began moving back and forth, then up and down. I knew I wouldn't last long because it had been just too long since I’d had sex. She picked up speed and began gyrating over my cock, banging my balls into me while she moaned almost constantly until I felt her begin to tighten on my cock.
It was more than I could handle and I felt my balls tighten to warn of my oncoming climax as the hot cum boiled out of my balls and sprayed into her hot pussy pulse after pulse. I spunked my fertile seed inside her, filling her, only for it to run down my cock and over my balls. Rachel crawled off of me and started to lick me clean but I pushed her back on my legs and pulled her legs over my shoulders as I sucked my cum from her pussy and licked her clean.
She pulled me up and led me to the day bed, dropping face down onto it while I crawled up next to her.
"Not bad for an older man," she panted "I think we're both going to enjoy our little adventure."
I'd forgotten that I was doing this under threat until she reminded me.
"Look, Rachel, that was great and you have a fantastic body but we just can't keep doing this. Sooner or later, one of us is going to say or do something and we're going to get caught. I can't afford to take that chance."
"Listen to me carefully Jeff. Nothing about our situation is changed except that now we both know that sex between us is pretty damned awesome. I have a lot of plans and ideas and nothing you say or do will change them. What you saw on that video is nothing compared to what is on the rest of it. Remember the woman that was going down on you? I've got a video of your cock slipping into her tight ass. Never mind how, I just have. Wonderful science, this computer enhanced fakery. You and I both know you never fucked anyone in their ass but Melanie doesn't know and she wouldn't believe you if you told her you hadn't so lets quit the bull shit and enjoy each other."
I slipped my clothes on without further comment and went for a drive to try to figure things out. Nothing I could say or do would counter the ammunition she had to use against me. I was fucked, literally and factually. I could either accept her terms or move out now and take my licks, a poor choice of words. It was while I was driving that I suddenly realised that I may have just given her the most potent weapon she could get. When I sat on the couch, she pushed me there. Was it possible that it was no accident that she'd chosen that particular spot? Could she have had cameras focused on that spot? If so, I gave her everything she needed to completely control me. I pulled to the side of the road and beat my fisted hands into the steering wheel until I could get rid of the frustration I was feeling.
I didn't hear from her for over a week but then I walked into the house one evening and saw an SD card lying on the kitchen table. My heart dropped into my shoes. I swallowed hard and walked into the living room trying to act natural.
"Jeff," she began, "why is someone sending me an empty SD card? Were you expecting a video from someone?"
"Not that I know of." I lied. "Probably put the wrong address on it or something. Who knows?"
"But why would anyone send an empty memory card? That doesn't make any sense at all." I just shrugged my shoulders and picked up the paper.
The next day I waited until Melanie went to work, then gave Rachel a call, ready for a knock down all out fight. Of course, I never got the first punch in. As soon as she answered the phone, she went on the attack.
"That was just a reminder Jeff, so you don't forget your obligations."
"That's bull shit, Rachel. I gave you what you wanted, and you turn around and scare the shit out of me? What kind of crap is that?"
"Just a reminder that we aren't done. What you gave me was good, just not enough. Lucky for you I've been on my period this week. I'm back and I'm horny. See you in ten minutes, fifteen tops. The garage door is open."
"Wait a damned minute, Rachel."
"Fifteen minutes tops, Jeff. I'm waiting and you know I don't like to be kept waiting."
I slammed the phone down and cursed the day we moved in to this house.
I slipped into some jeans and a pullover, pulled on some shoes and took the usual drive into Sophie's drive. She wasn't at the bottom of the stairs this time but she called to me, inviting me up stairs. She was standing in the middle of the room, wearing a stretch top that came just below her tits, and bikini panties. She smiled and came over to me.
"We were in too much of a hurry last time, Jeff. Let's slow down and get to know each other's bodies better. Tease me with lots of foreplay before you make me cum."
She pulled off my shirt and began chewing and sucking on my nipples while she stroked my face, neck and chest mewling into my skin. I hesitated, but couldn't deny what my body was telling me. She raised up and kissed me several times and I found my hand going to the back of her head to pull our lips into each other as our tongues began their dance. I pulled her top up over her breasts and began rubbing into my chest into her, squishing her breasts. Something inside of me said stop, stop. It was no match for the part of me that said more, more, MORE!
She reached down to rub over my now roaring erection which ended any thought of putting up any resistance. I moved her to the day bed and, without letting go of her, laid her down, with me on top. Without much pretence, I descended on her pert breasts, kissing in spirals upon her perky mounds. My lips finally cresting each globe to swirl my tongue around her hard nipples.
Still moving from breast to breast, I licked her rash nipples several times, then inhaled one as I rolled the other between my fingers. She had her hand on the back of my head, forcing my face into her as she thrust her tits up, urging me on with her moans and pleas for more.
Sucking her nipple into my mouth, I attacked with tongue and lips, stopping occasionally to nibble at the nipple before moving to the other breast. Now she was pushing my head downward and I was glad to oblige. Licking my way down her beautiful, young body, I paused to play with her navel for a while... teasing to go lower. Her breathing became fast and I could feel the heat emanating from her sex.
I propped myself up, pulling, then nearly ripping her bikini bottoms away from her body to throw them on the floor. With her naked before me I stripped quickly, then went to the foot of the day bed and lifter her foot to kiss and suck on her toes. Some women don't care for this but that wasn't the case for her. She began twisting and groaning, urging me, then begging me to lick them.
I guess I got carried away because she screamed that she needed to cum so I licked my way up one leg, then the other, stopping short of my goal, even though she sat up and grabbed my hair and tried to pull me in. I did let her force me to lick and suck on her thighs but when she was getting close, she forced my face in and wrapped her legs around me, jamming it into the very wet pussy lips.
She came quickly when I slipped my tongue into her but she wouldn't let go of my head, so I continued to attack her outer lips, slipping my tongue between them, then moving up and down over the slit, allowing it to slide into her as far as it could. She still had my head in vicelike grip as I sucked on her clit, pulling it into my lips, but she let me go to start thrusting her hips into me. I opened her with my fingers and began plunging my tongue into her, stopping once in a while to attack her clit again. I lost track of the number of times she came, but I never stopped until I sucked hard on her clit and caught it in my teeth. She nearly screamed when she came and I got rewarded with a face full of hot cum. I let her come down but kept teasing her clit with soft tongue strokes until she pushed me away, begging me to stop.
Before she caught her breath, I crawled up and buried my cock in her hot pussy in one push. She came off the bed, then began ramming her hips into me, matching me thrust for thrust. Our sex was incredible! Within minutes she was pleading for me to go faster and harder, our moist bodies slapping and sticking together as the bed began creaking. I wasn’t long until I was ramming into her vagina so hard she had to hold on to keep from being pushed off the bed. She reached down and pulled her knees to her and I pressed my throbbing cock in and out of her until neither of us could hold back any more, both reaching our climax at the same time. I tensed and blew the contents of my nuts into the body of my young, illicit lover. I held my twitching cock deep within her, pushing hard against her cervix, feeling the pulse of her orgasm moving over my cock, milking me. My sperm blasted into her in a world shattering orgasm, leaving me with no energy. I collapsed onto her, into her embrace and stayed there until I started to go limp.
There was no energy left in either of us so I rolled off her, completely fucked. I lay beside her and for nearly an hour, we held each other, stroked each other, kissed and nibbled together until we fell asleep, exhausted.
We had become lovers. I'd fought the good fight, but in the end, I never had a chance. All I could hope for now was discretion on her part, and a desperate hope that she was true to her word. She had me, as they say, right by the short hairs.
When I woke, I shot off the bed, and ran to get my watch which I'd put on the bedside table.
"You've got plenty of time," she told me, without moving from the bed.
"Thank God," I replied. Amazingly, I'd only slept a little over a half hour. I still had almost two hours before I had to be home in order to maintain my innocence. Just in case Mel got off early though, which she occasionally does, I wanted to be even home sooner than that! I didn’t want to my affaire to be so quickly and easily revealed.
When I sat back on the bed, Rachel sat up and ran her hands over my back and shoulders, then crawled over to lay her head on my shoulder. "You're still fighting this aren't you?" she asked.
"It's not you that I'm fighting, Rachel, it's what I'm doing, not who I'm doing it with. I've never cheated on her before."
"No," she replied, "no, you haven't," she admitted, "but I want you to think about something, Jeff. If all I wanted was to get laid, we both know I have no shortage of guys that would give me that. Not that I'd be caught in the same room with them, but they're out there. I did this as much for you as I did for myself. If I hadn't forced you into this, do you think it ever could have happened? You've been walking around, unhappy and unsatisfied for a long, long time. Melanie is the one that gave me the idea. She told me that she would have trouble remembering the last time you two had been intimate. If nothing else, I have proved to you that you've been missing out on the passion, and the confirmation that you are still a man, one hell of a man, I might add. I'm not sorry I did it, I'm glad. Your whole attitude has changed and Melanie told me the other day that you have been treating her much better now. I wonder why."
I didn't have an answer so I kept my mouth shut. I got up to relieve myself and make a half assed attempt at cleaning myself up. She came in and stood behind me as I washed, then took the cloth and washed my back, even over my ass cheeks.
She pushed me toward the shower then and while we waited for the water to stabilise, our lips were locked in desperate desire. She finally pulled away and pulled me into the shower. She washed me from top to bottom, but as much as I wanted it to, my cock just wasn't ready yet. When she was done, she soaped up the sponge and handed it to me with a look of pure lust in her eyes.
I washed her slowly and thoroughly paying particular attention to her beautiful breasts, especially her nipples, her thighs and that sweet wet pussy, then turned her to wash her ass. I swear I felt like my hands were shaking as I moved over those beautiful globes, the into the valley, separating the cheeks to attend to the puckered button. When I moved over it, she moaned and pushed into my hands so I spent a little extra time there. It was so tempting but I didn't want to assume anything so I just went on down to wash her pussy again. My cock was standing at attention so I dropped the sponge and moved against her, thrusting into her. She turned suddenly and took me in her arms.
"I know what you'd like right now Jeff, but I'm not ready for that. I'm not saying no, just not yet."
I followed her out of the shower, towelling off quickly as we went. When we reached the bed, she paused to arrange a pillow, then she released a padded bar that I hadn't noticed before, letting it drop down to hang about two or three feet over the centre of the bed.
Seeing my look of confusion, she kissed me and bent to rearrange the pillow. "There are many things you don't know about me Jeff. I've been setting things up for a long time and I think you'll like what I've done."
She climbed on the bed, adjusting the pillow a bit more. I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do. "I hope your hungry," she said, motioning for me to move to the foot of the bed. As I watched, she lifted her feet up to put them on the bar, raising her ass about six inches or so off the bed. It didn't take me long to decide I liked what she'd done. I almost came when she picked up a remote and pushed a button, which moved the bar away from me, pulling knees high over her chin while her feet moved to the outer ends of the bar. Her ass and pussy were displayed prominently for me.
"Don't keep me waiting, lover," she warned. "I'm all yours."
I decided to take the bold approach, no teasing, no tempting. I dove into her pussy with a vengeance, growling like a bear gone wild. Sucking her clit into my mouth, I pulled it from her pussy like a rag toy, pulling it back and forth. She was nearly screaming but it wasn't from pain, it was from sheer pleasure. Reaching up, I spread her open like a ripe peach and attacked her pussy with my tongue ramming it into her over and over again as she whipped her ass violently, trying to force my face deeper into her. I showed her no mercy, licking her wildly, plunging my tongue into the junction below her clit to move it back and forth. I felt her leg muscles begin to spasm, heard her begging for finality, tasted the beginning of what I knew would be a classic orgasm, then rammed two fingers deep before sucking her clit and chewing tenderly on it.
To say that her orgasm was monstrous would be an understatement. I'd never heard her scream so loud, never felt her pussy clamp down so hard, never knew her to squirt that much or that hard. It went on and on, even when I began to slowly and tenderly massage her stomach in an attempt to slow it. I moved up and lifted the remote from her table and returned the bar to its normal position to lower her body to the bed. She was completely wasted, twitching in the aftershocks of her orgasm. Cum actually poured from her battered pussy but I didn't want to lap at it for fear of causing her pain if her clit was irritated excessively. She lay there, trying to gain her breath, sweat pouring from her. She was so quiet, I didn't know if I should try to hold her or not but when I took her in my arms, she smiled weakly and allowed me to hold her as I kissed her tenderly. After about fifteen minutes of afterglow, I kissed her eyes and face, then her lips.
"Did I get carried away?" I asked.
She shook her head and smiled. "It's exactly what I wanted. I needed it hard and fast and you gave me all of that and then some."
For about an hour, we just snuggled, and to tell you the truth, I enjoyed that almost as much as the sex itself... almost. Unfortunately, the clock ran out on us and I had to beat a trail back to the house and tried to look like I'd been home for hours.
I almost got caught but when I heard the car pull in the drive, I dove into the bathroom and pretended that I had trouble walking when I came out. I told her that my legs went to sleep while I was sitting on the john, reading a magazine. Still it was a call back to the reality of the dangers in what I was doing and the very real possibility of getting caught or ratted out by someone other than Rachel. I knew pretty well that she wouldn't do that, although if I told her I was quitting, who knows?
The next day, Rachel called to see if I got caught and died laughing when I told her what I'd done. She told me that she'd had the best nights sleep ever before we talked about when we could see each other again. Yeah, I know, I know, I should have just taken my lumps and said no more but would you? I couldn't. Remember, I was getting nothing at home, not even encouraging words.
It was several weeks before we got together again. I was kind of curious why she didn't call, and to tell you the truth, I missed the sex. When she finally did call, she sounded different, more sensual than threatening if you know what I mean. Of course I didn't resist, I'm not that stupid.
The amazing thing was, that when I climbed the stairs, she wasn't standing there, naked, as she usually was. The lights were off and only the flickering light of a dozen candles illuminated the room. The bed was turned down and she sat on the couch, a comehither smile on her face and that sexy wicked look in her blue eyes. She patted the cushion next to her and the fact that she wasn't naked struck me as strange. I went to sit next to her. We snuggled kissed and petted for quite a long time and my cock was telling me it wanted the whole thing, not just a suggestion of what could be. Her soft moans and mewls told me she wanted me just as much as I wanted her but she repulsed every move I made to get her naked. Finally, I couldn't stand it any more.
"What's going on Rachel?" I inquired. "Am I supposed to rip your clothes off and rape you, or what?"
"Hmmmmmmm," she mused, "maybe we'll save that for another day. I wanted this to be special Jeff, I've got some specific plans for today and it doesn't involve knockdown, knockout sex. I want to start slow, a little more romantic, and build to a special climax."
I looked over at the clock but she turned me back. "You don't have to worry, Jeff. I happen to know that Melanie is working overtime today. She asked me this morning to remind you that she's bringing dinner home with her. Your line was busy, I guess. Do I have some competition?"
"That must have been the mechanic. He called to tell me the parts were in to fix the car whenever I get it there."
"We've got lots of time and I want to make it all count. Slow and easy, then building to a big finish. No one will bother us and we don't have to watch the clock."
She began stripping me, pausing to lick and kiss my nipples, neck and ears. Her soft nibbles on my nipples aroused me more than I would have thought it could. When she reached into my jeans to pull out my cock, she just let it drop while she pulled me jeans down around my knees. Her tongue rimmed my navel and probed into its depths, then slid over my body to slip into the upper thighs, then back up and down the other side. I had my hand on her head, urging her on, occasionally stroking her back and shoulders. She stood then and stripped my jeans off completely and slipped between my legs. She rolled me over on my stomach and started at my shoulders and slowly worked her way down to my ass cheeks. She licked my inner thighs, pausing to suck my flesh into her mouth to nip at it, sending little waves of pleasure through my whole body. Sucking my balls into her mouth, she worked them in and out of her hot orifice, while licking at the flesh under them with her tongue. If she was trying to drive me crazy, she was succeeding. Rachel worked her way back up, moving through the crease in my ass, brushing her tongue over the anus itself, rimming it, and moving on up to come back down and repeat the action several times.
I felt her separate the cheeks wide, pulling the flesh tight enough to hurt, then moving down to suck on that sensitive flesh around the hole that was pulsing on its own. I felt the tip of her finger circle the opening then begin probing into me. I tensed when she entered me, slowly working just the tip of her finger in and out of me, then moving deeper with each thrust, until I felt her knuckles pressing into my cheeks. As she moved in and out, she probed for my prostate until she found it, passing over it gently but repeatedly as my cock throbbed. A second finger was added and she began turning her hand about a quarter turn with each movement.
I've never had my ass probed so deep or so thoroughly but once I got used to it, and remembered who was doing it, it became quite arousing. She pulled her fingers out and rolled me over, returning to her agonising tease of my thighs and balls until she took my cock in her hand and ran her tongue all the way up the shaft before licking over and into the slit. As she licked over me, her hand slowly slid up and down my shaft and I felt the pressure building. Wrapping her fingers around my shaft, she squeezed hard at the base in an attempt to stifle the rapidly building orgasm, then she engulfed the head, sucking hard on it, while her tongue moved over the base. She pulled it out of her mouth and began running just the tip of her tongue around the puffy base and up the centre to penetrate the slit in the end.
I felt my balls throbbing from the pent up pressure and when she went down on me, she released her grip on the shaft. Two times she moved up and own the shaft until the head hit the back of her throat and I shot cum into her in surge after surge. It was one of the strongest climaxes I'd ever experienced in my life. She sucked and lapped up every single drop, milking it down over and over again while her hand massaged my balls with a finger probing my anus. When it was over, she moved over me and we shared my cum, which she had saved in her cheeks. I don't remember ever doing that before either. My balls throbbed like they'd never throbbed before. We snuggled and cuddled while our hands roamed over each other's bodies, exploring, stroking, touching, teasing.
"Jeff, there's something I think I should tell you." she muttered, her back turned to me with my arms around her.
"Oh hell, Rachel, I know what you're going to say and I've known it for a long time."
"What are you talking about?"
"You never intended to show Melanie those videos."
She laid there quietly but in my mind, I could see her smiling. "Why didn't you call my bluff then?" she finally asked.
"Don't you know? Oh, I bought into it for a while, but I finally figured you out. Besides, I was getting just as much out of it as you, sometimes even more, and you're right, I never would have done of it on my own, even though I've fantasied about it. I'm glad you did though."
"I was going to admit everything to you today anyway. That's why I wanted today to be so special. I want the memories to last forever."
I pulled her over into my arms and kissed her. "They will," I said. "Are you saying this is the last time?"
"I think it should be Jeff, don't you? I don't want it to be but there's too much chance of someone saying something. I don't think your marriage is going to last too much longer anyway but I don't want it to end because of me or anything that I do."
"I understand," I admitted. "I don't want it to end either. You've made me a much happier man than I've been for a very long time. It's going to be rough, seeing you over there is those white shorts you bought."
"Let's just enjoy today together, and put everything on hold for say three months or so. We can talk about it then if you want. Just stay busy and try not to think about it. It's going to be awfully hard on me too but it's for the best."
We made love then, slowly at first, then with a passion that is hard to describe except to compare it to a high speed pile driver until we both came at least once and collapsed, out of breath and drifted off to sleep, even as our fluids combined on the bedding.
When I woke, she was lying beside me with a smile on her face while her fingers traced invisible lines over me. "Hi, handsome," she said.
"I think all this sex has affected your vision," I replied.
"Jeff, I'm going to say something I swore I wouldn't say. I'm going to say it once and pretend it was never said."
I shrugged and turned to look in her eyes and was surprised to find a tiny tear glistening in the corner of her eye. I held her tight and kissed her hair. "I know, I know. Me too."
We lay quietly together as she fought off the tears. "I wish I hadn't done this," she whispered.
"Hush," I replied. "We both could have stopped it but we didn't because we both needed it. I don't regret it for one minute. My only regret, my only unhappiness is for what you are going through right now."
We held tight to each other for a long time, not speaking, just appreciating what we'd shared, and wishing it wasn't going to end like this. Three months would feel like years and we both knew it.
We made love again, showered and had a wild 69 that lasted for almost an hour before we couldn't breathe any more.
We were lying on the bed, with her spooned into me. "You've got to go, Jeff. She'll be home in a couple of hours. I know you don't want to, I don't want you to but we've got to just accept it."
"I know," I replied. As I pulled her even tighter to me. She reached down and stroked over my cock several times. To my amazement, it got hard. She played with it for a while, then she took it in her hand and placed it against her ass.
"You don't have to do that, Rachel," I advised. "I understand."
"I know I don't have to Jeff, I want to. I've never done it before and it's something I've wanted to try. You're the only one I'll trust to do it." She sat up and pulled a condom and a bottle of lube from the night stand. "I'm serious Jeff. I really have thought about it for a long time and it's my way of saying I'm yours whenever you want me."
She took my cock and slipped the condom on, covering it with a generous application of lube. When she bent forward, I applied a lot of lube and worked my finger into her, opening her up before inserting a second finger. I hesitated and asked her if she was sure, and she nodded.
"You'll have to relax, Rachel," I advised her, "and it helps if you push as though you were taking a dump when I push through."
I put the head of my cock against her and worked it back and forth over the tiny opening, then, holding her hips in my hands I eased the head into her as slow as I could. No matter how much lube we used though, or how careful I was, she cried out as it slipped in and on the first tentative strokes. I held it just inside and let her breathe for a minute before I moved into her further. I only allowed it to move in another inch or so, then pulled it almost out and moved back in, going just a tiny bit more. I kept doing this until she seemed comfortable, then I pulled it out and put it back in a couple of times before moving deeper. When my pubic hair was pushing against her ass, I pushed one time hard to bury it in her. After allowing her a few seconds more, I began a slow, gentle stroke, going about a third of the way with each stroke. When she began moving with me, I began full strokes, but still held it to slow and gentle strokes. When I began to feel my balls swelling, I picked up the pace and when I knew the end was imminent, I began pounding and at the last minute, I rammed her hard and held it there while my cock unloaded.
I slipped it out and peeled off the condom and we went in to shower together. It was hard to tell how much was shower water and how much was tears as we held to each other, not wanting it to end, even for a week.
When I left, she wouldn't look at me and it just tore me to pieces to hear her. She never intended for anyone to get hurt, let alone herself but it was the only way it could end.
It's been two months and it is now obvious: Rachel is pregnant. I'm torn by my emotions but whatever happens, she has control. You see, when she gave me the recordings, I gave them back. Just in case we need it, you know, to bring us together again.
#the other woman#lovers#illicit sex#having a baby#an affair to remember#forbidden sex#the girl next door#his perspective#pov#this is so wrong
224 notes
·
View notes
Text
Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 3 (Branjie) (and background everyone else) - Ortega
a/n: hey fam!! we are over halfway through the rewrite so hopefully soon i can get a brand brand new chapter out to u soon, in the meantime enjoy chapter 3 all over again and see if u can spot the differences lmao?? idk but i hope u enjoy anyway!!
fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.
And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.
***
28th September 2020
Vanessa has never been more excited in her life as she paces the rehearsal room, checks herself out for what is surely the millionth time in the mirrors and pulls a few strands of her dark hair out of her ponytail to frame her face. There’s a cameraman and a lighting person and a random producer set up in one corner too but Vanessa hardly acknowledges them, because it’s her first rehearsal with Brooke and in a moment she’s going to walk through those doors and they’ll get to start their journey together.
Saturday night had been a blur. They’d been rushed off to film their post-show reaction interview and Vanessa hardly remembers what she’d said. She supposes it couldn’t have been more incoherent than her immediate reaction. Or perhaps it had been. They’d swapped numbers excitedly, Vanessa’s heart dipping a little as Brooke insisted she couldn’t join for post-show drinks as she had to film early the next morning. With a pang of embarrassment, Vanessa remembers the text she’d sent to Brooke in the early hours of the morning as a result of Monique and Akeria’s shocking influence and way too much tequila:
V: iknow its 1am but im still so excited to be partnered wirg u and i cant wait for first rehearsal!!!!!!! x
It’s a miracle Brooke had still been up so her reply could come instantly and Vanessa didn’t have to wake up smelling of alcohol, kebab and regret the next day.
B: I’m excited too!! Have a good night, can’t wait for Monday x
It’s not like Vanessa has a crush- she’s just excited, as she keeps reminding herself, and Brooke is her first partner. It’s natural to look forward to seeing her as much as she is.
Vanessa inspects her reflection again, frowning and pulling out two more strands of hair from her ponytail to hang loose. She gives a cry of frustration as she realises she’s ruined it by pulling out way too much, so she bends over and hangs her head down between her knees to gather her hair up again.
She’s in this position when the door opens and she hears Brooke’s voice ringing into the echoey room.
“Good morning! Oh shit, am I interrupting something?“
Embarrassed, Vanessa flips her hair back and stands up straight, walking quickly over to Brooke as she dumps her gym bag at the door. “No, fuck, sorry, I was just fixing my hair! Hey!”
Brooke has her arms out ready to hug Vanessa and she accepts gladly. She smells all clean and of fabric softener. She probably uses in-wash scent boosters like an adult who has complete control of her life and more money than sense. They pull out of the hug and Vanessa fixes Brooke with a smile.
“So!” Vanessa starts, but there’s a noise from the other side of the room. One of the producers has stepped forward.
“Uh yeah, ladies, we can’t use that intro. We’re gonna have to film again.”
“How come?” Vanessa asked, realising too late that it’s because she was bent over with her hair hanging to the ground and that Brooke swore. The girls share a guilty laugh and Brooke retreats to the door. The good news is that they get to hug for a second time when they reshoot, and Vanessa gets another scent of Brooke’s detergent and the protected feeling of having the other girl’s strong arms around her.
“So, first rehearsal!” Vanessa chats cheerfully, leaning on the barre and tilting her head as she talks to Brooke. “How we feelin’?”
“Good! Excited. Ready. Positive adjectives,” Brooke says all at once, smiling at her. “How about you?”
“I’m happy. Kinda nervous, ‘cuz now I have to live up to your expectations.”
“And they are great expectations.”
Vanessa nods. “George Orwell style.”
Brooke pauses, fixing Vanessa with a funny look, then bursts out laughing. “Even Charles Dickens?”
Vanessa laughs, shrugging. “They both wrote books, I stay winning.”
She watches as Brooke doubles over clutching her stomach in hysteria, and feels a sense of pride at having made the girl laugh so much. Remembering the film crew in the corner, she smacks her hands together. “Right! For our first dance as a Strictly partnership, we are doin’ a…quickstep!”
Brooke raises her eyebrows and nods slowly. “Ballroom first, okay! I can do that. I guess I’m surprised we’re not doing Latin.”
Vanessa shrugs. “Ballroom ain’t my strong suit so I figured it’s better to get it out the way early while we got other, shittier girls we can hide behind.”
There’s a beat of silence as the two girls look at each other. They both speak at the same time. “…Farrah.”
“Reshoot!” the producer shouts over, Vanessa feeling herself roll her eyes like a teenager. Brooke snorts a laugh and Vanessa feels that little match spark up in her gut again. They reshoot, having the same conversation as before in so many words. It’s tricky remembering not to swear- Vanessa peppers fuck and shit into her daily language like she’s seasoning it, so it’s odd attempting to remove that from her vocabulary. She should probably be trying to give Brooke the impression of a mysterious and graceful woman who says gosh and darn but if she’s going to be working with her she’s going to be working with her, not a cookie-cutter picture perfect imitation.
“You wanna warm up?” Vanessa asks her, feeling a little bashful as Brooke rolls her neck slowly. She gives a small shake of her head as a long strip of her bare neck is exposed, her blonde ponytail falling over her shoulder. Vanessa feels like shaking her head herself, shaking all the thoughts that just entered her head out of it. Get a grip.
“Nah, I already did a bit before I came. We’ve got a gym at the flat, so it’s good for that kind of thing.”
Vanessa feels her eyebrows fly up her face. What kind of fancy-ass flat does she live in? “You wanna just do a bit of conditioning then? I saw you were good at it on the induction day, so you prolly don’t need to do much-”
“You had your eyes on me on induction day then?” Brooke interrupts, gives Vanessa a cheeky wink that makes her face hot. She thinks about making a jibe related to Brooke eyeing her up during squats, but she thinks it’s maybe a bit much. This is only the third time they’ve seen each other, after all. She doesn’t know why she’s acting like such a teenager.
“You wish, princess,” she sticks her tongue out. Brooke laughs and Vanessa joins her, trying not to think too much about where that princess appeared from out of nowhere.
Brooke shrugs in agreement and they do a bit of conditioning on the mats that are kept at the studio. They don’t really need to be doing too much- it’s a quickstep, it’s not exactly Cirque du Soleil- but Vanessa enjoys giving her muscles a proper stretch anyway. She doesn’t need to be the bendiest dancer in the world but she likes to feel as if her flexibility and strength are constantly improving. The film crew stay to catch some rehearsal shots but Vanessa feels as if it’s only her and Brooke in the room, their easy small-talk coming naturally as they stretch and chat over the chill R&B Vanessa’s stuck on in the background. Brooke’s been working that morning already, shooting for The Voice. They’ve moved filming to the morning so she can participate in the show. Vanessa says she hopes it’s not inconvenienced her too much and Brooke laughs and waves her apology away, saying it’s been her dream to get asked on the show ever since she rose to TV-presenter status.
Vanessa agrees, tells her about growing up watching the show with her Mom, how it inspired her when she began to compete all those years ago. She could get into other stuff, like the Summer when they couldn’t fly back to Puerto Rico because Vanessa had begged and pleaded with her Mom to spend the flight money on another term at dance school instead and it had caused a rift so huge it almost tore a hole in her family. But she doesn’t. As Vanessa reminds herself, it’s only their third meeting.
So why does she have to fight the compulsion to tell Brooke her damn life story?
Before Vanessa can blurt out any emotional moments from her upbringing (and she doesn’t exactly have a shortage of them), she slaps her thighs, stands up and rolls the mat away.
“Okay, let’s get started. Now obviously you’re good-”
“Oh, of course,” Brooke jokes. Vanessa’s heart gives a dip.
“- so I think we can maybe just start learning the full thing? If it’s too hard then we can just do some of the basics and go over lil’ techniques an’…stuff,” Vanessa clocks the cameras, changes the “shit” she was about to let out. “But the good news is we got two weeks to learn this one instead of one.”
“So there’s no excuse for it not to be perfect,” Brooke nods immediately. Vanessa freezes, taken aback. Brooke in turn looks almost as if she’s been caught out, and her face turns a little red. “Sorry. That probably seems way too keen, it’s just a fun dancing show-”
“Nah, keep that spirit. I’m a fan of that,” Vanessa smiles at her and Brooke, reassured, smiles back. The girl’s clearly a perfectionist. Vanessa adds that to her growing list of things she’s learning about her new partner. “Aight, I’m gonna show you how it’s gonna look. Lemme get my phone.”
Vanessa dashes over to her gym bag, scrambles about in it for a moment. She spent all of Sunday and stayed up all night finishing off the choreography with Crystal, who she’d also helped choreograph her first dance too, not that Crystal needed any help choreographing Latin. Or indeed ballroom. Or indeed any dance full stop. They’d brainstormed and drank gallons of water and chatted together excitedly the whole time. Being on the show with Crystal is nice because they practise their Spanish together so Vanessa doesn’t lose too much of it, and she understands what it’s like to be away from her huge extended family on days like Cinco di Mayo when the only real celebration of that in the UK is a display of Mexican party food in Tesco, and they moan together about the fact that neither of them have seen a single plantain on sale since arriving in the country. Finally finding her phone in her gym bag, Vanessa searches for the video she and Crystal took of the quickstep once it was all finished. Finding it, she plops down next to Brooke who’s sitting on the dusty floor and leaning against the mirrored wall. She hits play, holds her breath nervously and hopes Brooke will like what she’s come up with. Vanessa is relieved when a small smile grows on Brooke’s face.
“Are we actually doing it to Pon De Replay?”
“Damn right we are!” Vanessa replies proudly. She got her song request in early and the producers approved it on Sunday morning. She knows that she’s not as good at ballroom but she likes the fact that she can use songs she likes and twist the style to fit, making it more comfortable for her. The dance she’s created is clever, even if she does think so herself. First week is all about showcasing your celebrity and what they do, what kind of person they are, so Vanessa wants to give Brooke a challenge. The first half is a straightforward quickstep and the second is the same but everything mirrored and in reverse. There’s a silly bit at the start where Brooke’s going to pretend to be interviewing Vanessa to reflect her everyday career. It’s cheesy, but that’s Strictly.
The video comes to an end and Brooke is smiling from ear to ear. “Oh my God. I love it.”
“Ah! Amazing. I’m so glad,” Vanessa beams, happy and relieved all at once.
“I mean, it looks hard. But I didn’t think any of this would be easy.”
“It’ll get easier, though! Just needs practise. And remember, we’ve got two weeks!” Vanessa reminds her, standing up and shaking herself out. “So we’ve got ages. I mean. In between all the press and social media madness, obviously.”
“Obviously,” Brooke laughs, pushing herself up from the floor. “Right, come on then, teacher. What do we start with?”
Vanessa begins showing Brooke the routine, the complex and intricate little steps and hops of the quickstep taking Brooke a little bit of getting used to. But by lunchtime, they’ve gone through a little chunk of the dance already and they’ve run it without and with the music. Vanessa’s pleased with their progress and when they stop for their lunch break they’re both exhausted, sweaty, and smiling.
“You good?” Vanessa asks Brooke, who’s taking a long swig of her drink. Her eyes widen as she nods quickly.
“Yeah! Christ, it’s so tough. You’re a good teacher, though,” Brooke says, finally finishing her water. The praise makes Vanessa blush; she’s glad she’s already red from all the dancing so it doesn’t show as much.
“You’re doin’ great. Makin’ my job easy,” Vanessa smiles at her. She bites her lip before speaking again. “Hey, you wanna come have lunch with me?”
Brooke pulls a face and pouts. “Aw, that sounds amazing but I’ve got a meeting with my agent at quarter past. To make sure you’re not committing human rights violations against me or whatever.”
Vanessa snorts a laugh, tries not to look disappointed. They promise to meet back at the studio in half an hour, and Vanessa heads to the canteen where she knows some of the other girls will be having lunch too. The studios that a bunch of them have had the foresight to block-book are great and modern, and Vanessa feels bad for girls like Jan who’s having to rehearse in a draughty church hall near Jackie’s sleepy Hounslow suburb. Pushing open the double doors, she finds Phi Phi, Jaida, Monique, Crystal and Plastique already sitting at a table and eating lunch. Vanessa dashes over.
“Beep beep, hoes! Winner coming through,” she shouts over to them cheerfully, Monique laughing and rolling her eyes long-sufferingly as Jaida shakes her head at her.
“Take several seats, bitch.”
“One’s fine, thanks,” Vanessa flutters her lashes at her, causing the other girl to laugh.
“How did you even get in through the door with your head this big?” Monique scoffs, as Vanessa chucks her bag down and rakes through it for her lunch.
“Hey, you’d be crowin’ as well if you saw what my girl can do,” she points out, ignoring the way Monique’s eyebrows fly up her face at the my girl.
“It’s not about who’s got the best dancer from the start, it’s all about the potential,” Plastique shrugs at her. Vanessa gives a laugh.
“Aw, Scarlet’s got loads of that, right?” she jibes, the other girls laughing. Plastique rolls her eyes.
“We spent half an hour on a step-ball-change. Every object in the room slowly started to merge into implements with which I could kill both her and myself,” Plastique put her head in her hands. She’d ended up being partnered with the soap star and Monique, to her badly-suppressed delight, had been given singer Monet.
“At least she’s trying to work hard,” Phi Phi sighed, her face taking on a sour expression. “Willam is killing me. She keeps doing shit wrong and if I point it out she just makes a joke about it. And she keeps dashing next door to show shit to Courtney! What the hell is up with that? Courtney’s got Blair to worry about, she doesn’t need a damn goofball interrupting her rehearsal every two minutes to add to that.”
“Where is Courtney, anyway?” Vanessa asked, taking a big bite out of her chicken and rice. She knows Courtney shares their studios too and she’s notable by her absence.
Phi Phi pulls a face in response. “Let’s just say her and Blair have a lot of work to do.”
“Well, I can’t relate,” Monique smiles smugly. “Me an’ Monet have been doing amazing.”
“So’ve me and Gigi! She’s awesome,” Crystal pipes up excitedly. Vanessa swears she can see her pupils turn into little hearts as she speaks. “She’s so hardworking. We’ve done, like, half our dance already.”
“No you haven’t, stop lying,” Phi Phi nudges her under the table with her foot. Crystal rolls her eyes, resigned.
“Okay, not half, but maybe like a quarter. An eighth? A twelfth.”
The girls explode laughing and Vanessa actually has to wipe tears from her eyes. When she calms down, she asks Jaida how her rehearsals with Yvie are going so far.
“Alright, I guess. The girl’s really great, she’s got so much talent. But the bitch won’t stop filmin’ shit for her fuckin’ vlogs! I’d leap out the damn window but our room’s on the ground floor.”
Another roar flies up from the girls. It’s always funny to see how they all gel with their dance partners, and Vanessa has never got to experience it for herself until this year. She’s so happy she’s been paired with Brooke.
After the girls finish their lunch, Vanessa and Brooke continue to rehearse. The days pass like that easily with hours spent in hold, out of hold, stepping, hopping, watching Brooke tear her hands through her messy ponytail in frustration when she can’t immediately nail a particular move. Vanessa learns that Brooke’s hard on herself and, though she never snaps or yells, Vanessa knows it annoys her having to really properly work at the tricky bits. Truth be told, Vanessa gets annoyed at herself too. She curses herself whenever Brooke struggles with something, becomes convinced she should have made the dance a little easier for her. If Brooke doesn’t pick something up quickly Vanessa is irritated at her own teaching methods. She knows Brooke wants to be the best no matter how much she plays the competition off as simply a bit of fun, and she gets annoyed when it seems like she’s not doing enough to help her achieve that.
On the whole, though, Vanessa tries not to beat herself up too much. They do seem to be making really good progress in comparison to some of the other girls, and they’ve more or less learned the whole dance by the end of the first week. It bodes well for their next few weeks together, as they both know the two-week rehearsal process is a luxury that’s not going to be afforded to them for the rest of the series. Besides, next week is full of social media madness and promo filmings and they’ve got their It Takes Two interview with Cheryl on Friday. It’s going to be exhausting.
“It’s going to be exhausting,” Brooke smiles gently, contemplating the week ahead and rubbing her eyes at the end of their Saturday night rehearsal. It’s 10pm and probably far too late and Vanessa should’ve let Brooke get an early night but she got carried away polishing up little sections with her.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kept you so late tonight,” Vanessa laments, frowning. Brooke frowns back, her face full of concern.
“Don’t apologise! I’m willing to stay as long as it takes. However long you think I need,” Brooke gives a small laugh, and Vanessa concedes and joins her laughter. The thought hits her that they’ve not shared too much on social media yet. Some of the pairs are giving round-the-clock updates as if they’re News 24 (she doesn’t think Aja and Farrah have stopped going live on Instagram since they began rehearsing but that’s what you get with a reality TV star as a partner), and Vanessa feels a bit guilty. She knows she’s got fans- it never gets any less crazy to say but it’s true- and she knows they’re as excited about her Strictly journey as she is. So she takes her phone out of her bag and waves it a little at Brooke.
“Hey. I know it’s late, but we’ve been workin’ so hard we kinda forgot about all the fun shit. Wanna take a few post-rehearsal selfies for Insta?”
She pauses as Brooke lets out a small laugh, suddenly feels embarrassed. “You know. If that’s your sorta thing.”
“I’m a TV presenter, Vanessa, I’m not the Prime Minister. I’m allowed to have fun,” Brooke laughs, struts up to stand beside her and faces the mirrored wall. “Go on then, Naomi Campbell, start the damn photoshoot.”
Vanessa laughs and her heart gives a little flutter as Brooke locks her fingers and rests them on her shoulder, leaning down and resting her head on them. She pouts and in turn Vanessa throws up a peace sign and sticks her tongue out. She takes a burst of five photos that will all look identical but she knows she’ll be able to find a tiny, minute difference in them all. Brooke leans over her phone as she scrolls through the photos, and suddenly jabs a finger against her screen.
“That one. It’s cute.”
Vanessa obeys orders and puts it on her Instagram story along with a timestamp and a little gif of a teddy bear falling asleep.
“Now do a video!” Brooke bounces on her toes all excited, and Vanessa has to laugh at how much she’s getting into the swing of things. Vanessa points the camera at them both, begins recording.
“Hey guys, Vanjie here with my girl Brooke Lynn, so it is…” she forgets the time, appeals to Brooke. “10.05? 10.06?”
“Way-too-late-o’clock,” Brooke chimes in, pokes Vanessa’s face teasingly. Vanessa rolls her eyes.
“We’ll go with that. An’ we have just finished a run of our full dance, you’re gonna love it, I can’t wait to show off this girl, y’all are not ready.”
Vanessa feels her face grow ever-so-slightly flushed as Brooke turns to her and smiles. “Aww. That’s cute, thanks! Oh, can we tell them what the song is?”
Vanessa faces her and laughs. “No way! We gotta wait til Monday, that’s when they all get released.”
“Please?” Brooke actually pouts. It’s too adorable and her face is so close to Vanessa’s in her attempt to fit into frame that Vanessa could totally lean forward and give her the tiniest little kiss if she wanted.
She doesn’t want to. Why the fuck did that thought just appear in her head?
“No! They’ll find out on Monday. And the dance too! No special treatment.”
“Ugh. I’m so telling my agent, this is definitely illegal. Should’ve stayed on the damn One Show.”
Vanessa bursts out laughing at Brooke’s joke, shakes her head at the camera. “I have to work with this diva. Jeez. Well, see you guys later!”
“Yeah, see you all later! If she hasn’t murdered me by then.”
“If I haven’t murdered her by then. Bye, love ya!” Vanessa signs off and stops recording, posts the video to her story as Brooke laughs. “You’re a natural at all this social media shit. Right, go get some rest. See you Monday, girl.”
“See you Monday,” Brooke smiles. Vanessa doesn’t miss the way she sort of hovers, lingering with the smile still on her face before looking to the floor and then leaving the room. Vanessa wonders what she was thinking. It couldn’t have been that important.
Before Vanessa begins to pack up she checks Instagram to see the reaction to the stuff she’s just dropped. There’s a few replies- she always gets them on her stories from fans and she tries to reply to most of them. One in particular catches her eye- a reply to the video which is peppered with heart-eye emojis and simply reads:
OHMYGOSH!!!!! You guys are SO cute together!!!
Vanessa doesn’t realise how long she’s been smiling until she’s left the studio and walking to the tube.
They both have a day off on Sunday- they all do. It’s been a long first week and they’ve all earned it. Vanessa has an ice bath because she’s forgotten how intense it is to be rehearsing all day every day with just one other person. It reminds her of the show she did that Summer with-
Well. It doesn’t matter now.
What matters now is Brooke, and Vanessa spends most of the daytime on Sunday sitting on the small sofa that’s squashed under the ceiling beam in her tiny narrow flat, curled up under a blanket and trying to figure out how to text her. She wants to make that connection with her partner, she wants her and Brooke to be close friends and to be able to go for lunch and talk about anything together and have their own little jokes and stuff like that. Lots of the dancers have that kind of connection with their girls already- Crystal and Gigi are averaging around two silly selfies a day on social media, Vanessa can hear Monique and Monet’s laughter ricocheting off the walls and down the stairs from their rehearsal room, and there is already some are-they-aren’t-they media speculation in the form of Jan and Jackie, who were papped going to get bagels in a break between rehearsals with their pinkies interlocked and small smiles on their faces. Vanessa’s not jealous of them, whatever it is they have. She’d asked Crystal about them, because she’s closer with Jan, and Crystal had laughed it off and said they’re just friends and they’re getting on very well. Vanessa has reason to doubt her, mind you. She knows chemistry when she sees it.
Vanessa finally decides to shoot Brooke a message at around six at night. She’s making a cheat meal of mac and cheese with a bunch of chorizo through it, because she damn well deserves a carb and some dairy and some oily meat. It’s when she realises that she’s made enough for a small village that she takes her phone out, messages Brooke before she can overthink it.
V: i’ve just made way too much mac and cheese, u wanna have a rehearsal room floor picnic tomorrow? x
The moment it’s sent she regrets how outrageously fucking pathetic she sounds. That is until she gets a reply around two minutes later, one that makes her face hurt with a smile.
B: No chance you’re offloading your failed masterchef attempts onto me. How do I know it’s edible? x
Her reply is flirtatious. Vanessa tries to explain it away but she can’t, so she positions her phone in front of the huge earthenware tray she’s just taken out of the oven, the breadcrumbs giving a satisfying crackle as she sticks a serving spoon into it and takes a boomerang of the strings of cheese and billows of steam that emerge as she pulls the spoon out and a golden slice of the baked pasta with it. She sends it off to Brooke without any written reply and for a moment she forgets about any potential response as hunger overtakes her. She grabs a white bowl with a small crack down its side and piles the pasta high into it, sitting back on the couch and pulling the purple blanket over her knees as she scans the channels for something to keep her company as she eats. She settles on a rerun of some 90s gameshow and as it eventually finishes, so does her dinner. It’s only then that Vanessa remembers her phone, and as she dashes back across to the kitchen counter her heart gives a giant thump of joy as she sees four messages from Brooke.
B: Omg I take it all back, I will never doubt your cooking skills again x
B: Is that chorizo???????? I’m so hungry x
B: Are you mad at me because I said it wouldn’t be edible?? I’m sorry!!!!!! x
B: Please bring some for lunch tomorrow! I’ll get us a dessert, call it an apology x
Vanessa looks at the little “x” after each one. She’s blushing before she even knows it and it’s almost like Brooke has planted real little kisses on both her cheeks.
V: i’d say it’s a date but i’m not gonna give u the satisfaction x
A reply from Brooke doesn’t come but somehow it doesn’t bother her.
They have their picnic on the floor of the rehearsal room the next day, just as had been promised. Brooke makes ridiculous noises as she takes her first bite of the mac and cheese and Vanessa pokes fun at her for buying the cakes and not baking them (but Galaxy cake bars are delicious, so she doesn’t complain too much). They make a silly video for Instagram- “Hey guys! We’ve stopped for lunch and I brought a picnic!” “Hey, I made cakes!” “Bought cakes. Bought.” - and they’re almost too full to practise afterwards but they do, until late into the night, and the day after that and the day after that. They squeeze in their photoshoot for the title sequence and an interview for the Radio Times and the days pass in a busy blur. Vanessa’s smile grows wider with each rehearsal as they become better and better at the dance and on Thursday night they run it through with no mistakes at all, Vanessa so happy that she jumps into Brooke’ arms and squeals with delight and Brooke squeezes her tight and does the same. Before they know it it’s Friday, they’re the last It Takes Two interview of the week, and the first show is a little over twenty-four hours away.
“You nervous?” Vanessa whispers to Brooke as they watch Cheryl interviewing one of the past contestants they’ve invited on to give their insight. The sister show of Strictly isn’t watched by a huge number of people but it is watched by the hardcore fans, and Vanessa is anxious to make a good impression.
“A little. I’m used to conducting the interviews, not giving them,” Brooke frowns a bit, sweeps her blonde hair over her shoulder. She turned up to the studios in a smart blue suit and orange heels and Vanessa is amazed that she hasn’t dissolved into liquid form under Brooke’s gaze.
Brooke is so beautiful, and Vanessa wonders if she’ll ever stop thinking that to herself.
Vanessa drops a shy hand to her side and takes Brooke’s, lacing their fingers together and giving them a squeeze. They hold hands and press their bodies together and look into each other’s eyes all the time as part of the dance so it’s not weird, it’s almost routine. When Brooke smiles at her, reassured and at ease, Vanessa relaxes by at least ninety percent.
They’re soon called out while a pre-recorded VT of their rehearsal footage plays and they whisper an excited hey to Cheryl in all her fake-tanned, white-toothed glory, the very vision of an Essex girl-turned-professional. Vanessa’s been interviewed by Cheryl before, last year when she was on the bench and all she had to do were some silly challenges and goof around with the other pros. This is different.
Vanessa takes a quick breath in and holds it while she smiles maniacally at the camera and Cheryl does their introduction. “Alright, now, joining us for the last interview of the week- it’s Brooke and Vanessa!”
A cheer goes up from the production crew as they both wave to the camera, and it makes Vanessa’s smile turn more goofy than she’d intended it to be. She leans into Brooke’s side as she laughs and she notices that Brooke’s got an arm resting on the headboard on the sofa behind her.
“Now, Brooke, you’ve had a fortnight of rehearsals and had to work around your busy taping schedule- what’s that been like?” Cheryl asks, leaning forward with interest. Vanessa has always liked Cheryl, mainly because an interview with her feels like a chat with an old friend and she always genuinely seems interested in what someone has to say.
“Ugh, you know what? It’s been amazing,” Brooke smiles, and Vanessa’s heart lights up in affirmation. She turns to look at Brooke and she’s already smiling at her. “Obviously it’s been tiring at times, I think I’ve had a combined total of about 10 hours of sleep this week-”
Vanessa snorts, laughs at how dramatic Brooke’s being.
“-but I wouldn’t change it. I’ve learned so much, and V’s such a good teacher. I really struck it lucky with her.”
The production team let out an “aww”, and Vanessa tries to bite back a grin and fails. Brooke’s arm goes from the headboard to rest around her shoulders and Vanessa is scared to move in case she scares her away like a butterfly.
“Now speaking of- Vanessa,” Cheryl’s face breaks into a smile as she turns to her, and Vanessa’s stomach flutters a little with nerves. “You obviously felt you struck it lucky with Brooke too, let’s remind everyone of your reaction to getting paired with her.”
Vanessa lets out a wail of protest and buries her face in her hands as the clip of their pairing is played, and she can hear Brooke creasing with laughter beside her. Her embarrassment is rewarded with Brooke squeezing her shoulder in reassurance, and Vanessa supposes it’s sort of worth it. The clip comes to an end and, as Vanessa takes her hands away from her face, she knows she’s blushing hard.
“Now, you were…I think you were a bit happy?” Cheryl teases sarcastically. Vanessa playfully glares at her, and Brooke squeezes her shoulder again. “Are you still as overjoyed with having Brooke as a partner now you’ve started to rehearse with her?”
“Aw, I’m still as happy as I was on launch night. Honestly,” Vanessa smiles at Cheryl, turns and smiles at Brooke too because she can’t help it. “She just makes it so easy because- she doesn’t stop smiling, so rehearsals are fun, and she is just the hardest-working girl…that even a word? Hardest-working…most hardworking..I don’t know, but she’s it, you know?”
Her praise is rewarded by Brooke dropping her hand down to her waist, and Vanessa’s heart gives a judder. It’s not like she’s not used to Brooke’s hands on her, but the context is different, and it throws her off ever so slightly in the best possible way.
“I think what’s nice is- I’ve wanted to be on this show for so long and it’s V’s first year with a partner, so we’re kind of doing this whole journey together, and it’s special,” Brooke smiles, and Vanessa nods in agreement, as if the movement of her head will stop the blood rushing to her cheeks in a blush.
“It is nice! Because I suppose, Brooke, you ain’t gotta compare yourself to anyone because there’s not been any partners before you,” Cheryl adds with a shrug. Vanessa smiles at her words and nods, turns to Brooke as she speaks.
“Yeah. You’re my favourite.”
Brooke’s eyes have a twinkle in them as she smiles back at her. “Aw, thanks.”
The interaction is so quick that Cheryl’s already on to her next question before she can pick up on it. “Now, Vanessa, you chose a quickstep for week one, why was that?”
Vanessa sighs a little as she thinks about it. She doesn’t want to come across too cocky, come out with because my girl’s the best and I knew she could do it in her sleep with her eyes shut, so she instead tries to come across as humble as she can. “I think because- it’s a fast dance, and it’s good to go right in at the deep end on your first week. I can see Brooke Lynn’s potential, and I know what she’s capable of, so we just sort of went for it and she’s coped so well. She’s thrived.”
“Not survived, but thrived! I love it!,” Cheryl laughs along with her. “Now, this pairing, I have heard…through the grapevine…this is a bit of a linguistically challenged pairing, am I right?”
Vanessa blinks at her. “What’s that even mean?”
Brooke howls with laughter beside her and Cheryl does the same opposite, and Vanessa pouts. She doesn’t like to look dumb, and the wounded part of her wants to remind them both that she’s the only one out of the three of them that speaks more than one language, but she lets it drop when Brooke explains it to her softly. “Like…words and stuff.”
“Oh right! Yeah, so Brooke’s got lil words for all the steps we’re doin’.”
“It just helps me remember the timing!” Brooke laughs, her turn to feel embarrassed as she covers her face with her hands.
“Yeah, so we go, like…step, hop, beans-on-toast!” Vanessa explains. Cheryl’s looking at Brooke as if she has two heads.
“What is beans on toast?!” she exclaims. Brooke shakes her head, gives Vanessa a look of admonishment.
“It’s just a little phrase, and it goes with the timing of the steps of the dance, and it helps me remember them…I won’t do it on the night, you won’t hear me say it!” Brooke laughs. She’s got the slightest hint of a blush hitting her cheeks, and part of Vanessa feels warm with the fact that the stage lights are too bright to pick up on it and it’s like a secret only she knows.
“Well, Vanessa, there’s also a revelation I’ve heard today that I’m a little bit shocked by…” Cheryl begins, and Vanessa feels nervous, as if Cheryl’s about to rip the butterflies out of her stomach and show them to Brooke as some sort of proof of any embarrassing little feelings she’s got for her. “…you’re a Strictly pro that can’t actually say the name of one of the dance moves?”
“Oh my God,” Vanessa lets out a groan. She knows instantly what Cheryl is referring to, and Brooke’s hand is wrenched from its position on her waist as she claps her hands with mirth.
“Can you say it now?” Brooke teases, and Vanessa rolls her eyes at her.
“Girl, you know I can’t!” she whines, prepares herself to try and say the offending word. “Sash-ay?”
“No!” Brooke laughs, the twinkle in her eye almost blinding.
“Sash-ay?” Vanessa hears herself, and shakes her head. “No, wait, I already said it like that.”
“It’s not like a sachet of sauce,” Cheryl supplies unhelpfully. Vanessa raises her eyebrows at her. She tries again.
“Chassé,” she finally comes out with, and a roar of satisfaction erupts from the crew behind the cameras. She laughs as she protests her lack of pronunciation. “Leave me alone, I got two languages to try an’ speak in!”
“And you can’t say chassé in either of them,” Brooke teases, sticking her tongue out at her. Vanessa finds it hard to rip her eyes away from her partner as Cheryl speaks again.
“Well, you two, you’ve been a joy to have with us today, good luck for Saturday night-”
“Thank you!”
“- Brooke and Vanessa, everybody!”
A cheer goes up from the crew, and Vanessa can’t help but giggle at the silliness that was the end of their interview. As Cheryl introduces another section of the show, Vanessa feels Brooke slip her hand into her own, squeezing it once. Vanessa squeezes back, and Brooke meets her eyes in a calm smile. It’s Friday evening, they’re off to rehearse as soon as this is over, and then it will be Saturday and their first live show as a couple. Vanessa is the best kind of nervous, and she finds herself shutting her eyes for a second as if to check she’s not dreaming.
Another squeeze of her hand from Brooke Lynn brings her back to earth with a bump, but she doesn’t mind.
#rpdr fanfiction#bet you look good on the dancefloor#ortega#strictly au#lesbian au#branjie#vanessa vanjie mateo#brooke lynn hytes#monique heart#jaida essence hall#crystal methyd#phi phi o'hara#plastique tiara#cheryl hole#background jankie#background momo#background crygi
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
When the stars align - Chapter 1
Sat next to Emilia and Kit, she'd never imagined she'd ever sit here. Even after four years of living this life, of being as famous as she'd become. Sure she'd attended the Academy awards for the first time last year. But even then she'd never have expected to be sat here the following year as one of the nominees.
Four and a half years around New years during her final year of her nursing student she'd finally published to of her then finished books. And they'd taken her on a whirlwind story so far. She'd published books, become a successful actress, philanthropist, spokeswoman, successful author and writer for movies.
One of the people who she wrote most often with was Kit, they were the current dream team. As once Dan and Dave had been for Game of Thrones had been. They'd shot themselves in the foot by the worst ever ending for the best TV series ever. George was a mentor of a sort to her and he'd been the one to put her in contact with the Game of Thrones cast and how Emilia came to be one of her best friends. Kit was like the bigger brother she'd never had and her partner when it came to writing.
"And now presenting the academy awards for best original screenplay, Morgan Freeman." the announcer called out as she turned to look at Kit with a nervous smile. The pressure was on for them both. Alexis had won countless awards by now for her writing ability, she had no doubt in her ability to write anymore.
But still, an academy award would be the top of everything as she turned back to the stage as they finished running through the nominees.
"and the Academy awards for Best Original Screenplay goes to..." Morgan paused as he opened the envelope as Kit took her hand in his. "The nation's Crussador, Kit Harrington and Alexis Mertens." he called out as she turned to Kit with a stunned expression to which he only let out a chuckle, before pulling her up. "come on sis," he whispered in her ear as he gave her a hug. Placing her hand in the crook of Kit's elbow they walked to the stage, careful that she didn't trip over her gown, that would just be her luck as she accepted the award.
"First of all, we want to thank the people who've been able to turn the script we wrote into such a brilliant movie. A script is only as good as how the actors portray it, so thanks for making the characters we made come to life. To the people who've supported us through the years." Kit started as she stood to his side as she gave him a small nod for him to continue. When they'd been nominated they'd laughed and joked about it.
Then last week they'd sat together, realising they might actually win this. Their movie had gotten award after award in lots of categories, and they'd figured what they'd say together.
"When we started writing this story, the only thing we said to each other was that we wanted something than what we were used to." Kit chuckled, looking back at Alexis as she let out a chuckle, whilst tilting her head in amusement. "I think we've made accomplished to do that." he chuckled as he turned back to the crowd, finishing up his speech before they were whisked away to the back to talk to the world's press.
"I still can't believe it," Alexis whispered as they made their way to their seats. "Start believing it." Kit teased her as he nudged her side and she rolled her eyes. She couldn't sit still for long as she and Emilia had to present an award as the Targaryen rulers. This summer the final instalment of Ages of Conquest was going to air and she couldn't be happier. Four years of hard work on a Prequel Game of Thrones movie. She was mostly finished, just a few more pick up's and than she could officially hang up her wig of Visenya Targaryen.
"Maybe we'll finally find you a guy." Emilia teased her s they waited to be called on stage. "I doubt that'll ever happen," she told her with a shake of her head. Even though she and Henry had broken up about eight months ago, she wasn't ready to go out there yet. They'd been co-stars on Age of Conquests, him playing her brother and her husband. They'd only lasted less than a year, it didn't seem he understood the work she put in. She had done so many movies already in such a short span of time, but she wanted to prove herself, not only as an actress but as a writer and more. She had two organisations, ECIAS was celebrating its third birthday soon and RISE was going to be turning two in April. Both were causes close to her chest for different reasons.
Though they were run by others and capable people for her, she still knew what happened there and was updated every fortnight. Then she had her publishers breathing down her back, which lessened in the last few months since she ripped them a new one. she'd published seven books in under five years and no small ones either. She'd told them that if they wanted books worthy of being sold they'd have to wait. They'd become very rich from her books, not that she wasn't rich either from them. She was headed to being a billionaire from all her work. But still, she put a lot of work in everything. For a movie she was shooting now she'd gotten her helicopter license which she just loved. For another one, Mission Impossible seven she'd gotten her biking license and so it went on. The next movie to shoot was a sequel to one she'd shot with Emilia and Emma: Eden's treasure two.
"You can't stay single forever." Emilia tried, now that she'd found happiness with Scott, after all the failed relationships she was putting pressure on her to get the same. She'd introduced Scott and Emilia about two years ago when she'd shot a movie with him called Toff guys. She'd just broken up when she'd dragged her to a cast dinner and they'd hit it right off. And now two years later they were happily together and living together in England.
"I know, I'm just not ready I think. I have such a hectic life Emilia, maybe I shouldn't be getting with anyone, it's what broke us up in the first place," she told her as Emilia nudged her shoulder. "You deserve it more than anyone," she told her as they were called on the stage.
***
"Oh please." Alexis snickered as she lifted the flute of champagne to her mouth. "What, come on admit it you find him hot as shit." Emilia tried as Alexis threw her head back in full blown laughter, getting the attention of few people close by at the afterparty. "Fine, I'll admit," Alexis smirked at her as Emilia grinned at her mischieviously. "Why don't you go up to the Avengers, I think they might be looking for a goddess of mischief." she teased her best friend and now it was her turn to start laughing.
"I always thought you found me hot." Emilia grinned as both of them laughed when Kit walked up to them with a frightened look. "What are the two of you to planning on doing?" he asked them with a fearful glint in his eyes. Whenever those two got together, which was a lot since they were best friends they always got up to something. The last time he was with them at an event they'd told the press to ask him if he'd ever kissed a guy. they always got up to mischief and the laughing and teasing looks in their eyes, well it had him a little wary.
"You're scared of us." Emilia pointed out with a small wave of her hand. "With good reason, I've known you for 15 years Emilia and Alexis for almost four and a half years and you've been best friends since then. You two are always up to something, it's like Sophie and Maisie." he compared the two pairs of best friends as both Emilia and Alexis raised their brows at him, before looking at one another conspiringly.
"That's my cue to get out of here before the two of you get up something with me at the end of it," he told them as he pointed his finger at the two of them as he wrapped his arms around his pregnant wife and walked off. "Chicken," Alexis called out after him as he flapped his arms like a chicken as she rolled her eyes. It was so much fun to rile him up and it was so easy to do. Certainly, when she and Emilia were together, they tended to get up to trouble. "Excuse me." Alexis apologised when she bumped into someone and she immediately felt a pair of arms steady her.
"No trouble at all, it's you." the voice said as she turned to look at Chris Evans with a cheeky grin on his face. "yes, it's me." she chuckled with a smile on her face. "congrats on the award tonight." he congratulated her as she gave him a soft smile. "thanks it was a team effort, Kit and I only made the script, the cast made it comes alive," she told him as he tilted her head at her with studious face.
"Still, you guys did a pretty good job with that script." he complimented her as she gave him a sheepish smile, her cheeks reddening. "Thank you," she whispered to him as he nodded his head. "Want to have another drink?" he asked as she took a subtle look of where Emilia and the rest of her friends were, they were all scattered and talking as she nodded her head.
"Sure." she smiled, nodding her head as the turned to walk towards the bar, him following her as she ordered a Bellini and he a beer.
"I really like your work, by the way, I think you're an incredible writer and author." he told her as they went to sit on one of the lounches outside beneath the Christmas lights. "thank you, I put a lot of work and effort into it, I'm glad you enjoy it as much as I had making it and writing it," she told him with a tiny smile as she adjusted the slit of her gown so she wasn't flashing anything as she pulled her other leg underneath her. With all the camera's gone and the attention, she could finally let her hair down. She loved what she did, don't get her wrong and her fame gave her all she had, her career opportunities, the voice in which she advocated a lot of things for.
But she wasn't an attention seeker, it was great when she needed it for work and things she supported. But outside of that, she was still the shy, geeky, sheepish, uncertain person, at the core she was still the very same person she'd always been. She wanted to remain grounded and not float, she'd seen how it shouldn't be and she never wanted to be one of those people to disrespect others cause she had a great job and lots of money. She remembered her roots and where she came from and it had basically been from nothing.
And right now though she was surrounded by all the celebrities, she'd gotten used to being surrounded by them. It had taken her quite a while and sometimes she was still star struck. But she could hide it better, but right now all she wanted to do was put her feet up, have a drink, celebrate tonight and relax.
"there you are cap." she heard a voice behind her say and she turned around to face most of the Avengers cast. "And it seems you got a lovely woman's attention." Robert teased them as she ducked her head sheepishly. "It's very lovely to meet you." they all greeted her as she replied in the same sentence. "congrats on tonight's award," they told her as she thanked them. "It was a team effort," she told them with certainty in her voice.
"You writing anything at the moment?" Scarlett asked her as she lifted her new drink to her lips. "I probably should get started on my books, but I can't seem to get myself to sit down to do the research. I think a small break from them is in order and besides that not really anything concrete yet. Kit and I are meeting up next week at home to see if we can come up with a new script." she explained to them as she thought of her house in the English countryside, she loved it there. It was so green and beautiful, she had a beautiful property. It was a private place and she loved spending time there by herself or having friends and family over.
"Already a new one." Mark chuckled as she shrugged her shoulders. "Of course, we don't go long without writing together. We understand each other when it comes to writing and we understand what we're working towards. I've worked together with Kit, writing together for four years now and if we don't write for two months it's a rarity." she explained to them as she rested her glass on her knee.
"You mostly write with Kit?" Luke asked her as she nodded her head. "When I'm not writing by myself, I write with Kit," she explained to them as she felt a hand on her shoulder and she looked up to see Emilie there. "Hey guys." she greeted everyone, before looking back down at her best friend. "I'm not feeling too well, I'm going to head back to the hotel," she told Alicia as she started to get up. "You want me to come along? what's wrong?" she asked her with a tilt of her head. "just my stomach and no stay here, do you have the keycard to our suite?" Emilia asked her friend as she watched her open her clutch to check it out. "Yes I've got it with me," she reassured her. "Great, I'll see you tomorrow morning," she told her as she said goodbye, promising to catch up with those she knew later on and then she was off. "You two really are best friends." Scarlett pointed out as Alicia nodded her head. "Yes, We're pretty close and I'm glad to have had her for so many things," Alicia admitted to herself and to the people around her.
She was incredibly lucky to have her best friend, she'd taught her a hell of a lot about acting and so much else. she was a true friend, something which was hard to come by and she looked forward to being her maid of honour at her wedding in May to Scott.
Sure she still had friends home in Belgium, close friends, but they could never understand the life she now lived.
"Would you like to write for the avengers?" one of the producers asked her as she turned to look at him with a thoughtful look on her face. "I don't know, maybe given a chance, but knowing me I won't be loyal to the comics at all, I've never even read them," she told them with a chuckle as they waved it off. "You have brilliant ideas of your own, I'm sure you could make it work." The guy told her as she tilted her head to the side. "I wouldn't be against it let's keep it at that," she told them as they all gave her curious looks, to have her write for them. One of the two biggest writers at the moment, her and Kit. Well, that would certainly be something to take a hold of with both hands.
"How long are you in LA for?" the producer asked her as she took a sip of her glass. "Four more days," she told them as they nodded their heads. "Maybe we could come to London?" he suggested as she shook her head. "I'm heading for Ireland and then I'll be in Dubrovnik for the pick up's for conquests," she explained to them with an apologetic tone and look on her face. "I could come by tomorrow or the few days I'm still here if you'd want that." she offered up to them as they nodded their heads as they exchanged numbers. they'd be calling her tomorrow morning with when the best time would be to meet up.
It wasn't much longer than the bosses ran off and the kids could play as she always called it. Everyone always behaved till the producers were gone and then things went loose.
Kit had come to say goodbye not much later, wanting to return to the hotel with Pregnant Rose. "We'll see each other soon sis," he told her as he kissed her cheek as she said goodbye to her two good friends. "So you might come aboard MCU?" Chris asked her after some thought he'd extended his contract to play Captain America a bit longer. And now that Alicia might be writing on it, well it was just another confirmation that he needed to do this. "Yes, don't know what though," she told him as she gave him a small smile, still sat on the place they'd sat on. His castmates and friends had dispersed now as well as they kept talking.
"I'm sure that whatever you do, it'll be amazing," he commented as she gave him a sheepish smile. "Thanks," she whispered as he nodded to her glass. "Another one?" he asked her as she shook her head. "No thank you, I better get back, if they're going to call me tomorrow morning," she told him, it was already four in the morning and she wanted to be clear-headed when they did call.
"oh, I'd love to have talked a bit more," he told her with an honest tone, he'd been fascinated by this young woman since she started making a name for herself. First with her books, then as an actress and screenwriter. She was a multiversed person and there wasn't a person who hadn't wanted to talk to her tonight, people had come over to her all night. Interrupting their quiet fascinating and amazing chat.
"You've got my number," she told him with a cheeky grin on her face. "Why don't we go out to dinner tomorrow? Emilia can come with, it'll be nice to catch up," he suggested as she thought about it for a moment and figured why not. "Sure, send me a text with the details," she told him as she got up and he helped her as she gave him a tiny smile. "I had a lot of fun talking tonight," she told him as he nodded his head at her.
***
Chris: 'Up yet?' came to his text as she stepped inside of her suite, Emilia was sat on the couch, looking at something on her computer.
"How was it?" Emilia asked, looking up from where she was reading a new script. "Great, I'll be writing the next Avengers movie," she told her, still in disbelief, those movies were huge, to be writing for them, it was a very daunting task. She hoped to be up to the task, all actors had extended their contracts and were looking forward to the next Avengers movie. She still had to think about what she would write about. LA wasn't a good writing environment, it didn't work for her so she'd have to get started on it once she reached Belfast. And then she hoped not to disappoint the people she'd met last night and the people having faith in her. So far she'd only written two movie scripts all by herself, this would be her third. talk about pressure and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to do live up to the name she'd made for herself. Her brain was already running full speed ahead and she was starting to think that this might not have been the smartest either. Thanos had been such a great villain, to outlive that one, well she wasn't sure if she'd be able to do it. They'd assured her that they could find out a new villain behind a lot of conspiracy, leading up to another end game in a way. But still, it didn't give her much comfort and she was starting to get worried.
'Yes, just came back from the meeting, get to write next Avengers movie.' she texted Chris back before she forgot, she knew how distracted she tended to come and replying to messages could sometimes last hours.
"You'll do fine, you can't write a bad story," Emilia told her as Alicia gave her a doubtful look, before putting her stuff down in her bedroom. "So you coming to dinner?" she asked her as she sat down next to her best friend. "Hell no, a hot guy like Chris Evans asks you out for dinner and I would have to tag along. No way no hell, this is your chance," she told her as Alicia let her head drop back on the backrest with a groan.
"Emilia, stop setting me up, the only thing I can seem to be good at is career making. I'm not meant for happiness in my private life," she told her with a shake of her head. It's what it felt like at least when it came to her career, well many things could be said about it, but not that she didn't have a brilliant career.
When it came to her personal life, not that she'd gone through a list of guys, only one. She was pretty old fashioned when it came to relationships and she hadn't wanted to focus on a relationship when it would end badly again. Henry and Jens before him, nothing would ever work out for her when it came to her love life.
"Yes you are Li if one deserves to be happy and in love, it's you," she told her as she turned to look out the window behind them. "Just go out and enjoy an evening with a handsome and hot guy." Emilia tried as Alicia turned to look at her best friend when her phone buzzed.
Chris: 'Great, can't wait to read with what you come up with. You up for Italian?' came the questions and half a minute later came. 'Is Emilia joining us?'
"See I was even an afterthought, he wants you to have dinner with, not me." Emilia pointed out and she couldn't really deny that as she turned back to her phone. "Sounds great and no, she won't be able to make it," Alicia replied as she went to get her computer to start some research.
'Great, I'll pick you up, at the Waldorf right?' came the question. "Yes," she replied. "I'll pick you up at seven." cames his reply as she checked the clock to see it was only two in the afternoon, so she could still work for four more hours.
"Li, shouldn't you be getting ready?" she heard Emilia's voice say all of a sudden to her left. "I still got time," she told her as she continued to type on her laptop. "Yea, it's 6:15, Chris will be here in 45 minutes," Emilia told her with an amused sing a song tone as Alicia looked at the time and realised she'd just worked for four hours without realising it. "Crap," she called out, saving the document, closing her laptop and running to the bathroom in her room. "You couldn't have said anything earlier?" she called out to her best friend still in their living room as Emilia sat on the couch shaking her head in amusement. Only Alicia could be so entranced and occupied in thought to forget the time.
She'd seen her do it countless times whenever they shared a room. Which they tended to do when they had to go somewhere together. Mostly it was a suite with two bedrooms, they were best friends, had seen each other naked and knew each other's secrets. At times they'd even shared a bed when a suite hadn't been available. She could literally say that she knew her best friend well and could predict most of the things she'd do, and since Alicia was pretty unpredictable, that was an achievement in itself.
"What am I even going to wear?" Alicia asked herself as she rushed to get ready, washing her hair, shaving her legs and armpits, washing her body in record time. Wrapped in a towel, she dried her hair with another towel and let it to air dry whilst she brushed her teeth and applied the tiniest bit of makeup. She wasn't one that liked wearing make up a lot, for an event like the Oscars last night, then she'd wear makeup. Now it was only a bit of eye shadow, eyeliner, mascara and lip gloss, nothing else. Pulling her hair back from her face she did a knot at the back of her head and went to find out what she was going to wear. She still had 15 minutes to go, thank god for that, she looked to her right when she heard Emilia laughing. "hurricane Alicia is in the house." she teased her, the nickname she'd earned herself.
Since Alicia her mind ran up to a thousand miles an hour at times, she was called that. In a span of five minutes she could come up with subjects that weren't even closely related that it didn't make sense, but somehow she managed to connect the dots. She was able to go from writing to acting to doing other stuff, that's why she'd been given the nickname hurricane. Not that she minded at all, but looking around her room, it had been a mess before, it was even worse now.
"You should help me instead of laughing at me," she told her with a nervous chuckle as Emilia took pity on her and walked over to a dress lying on the floor. "This one, you'll look beautiful in it." Emilia told her as she eyed the dress doubtfully. "a part of my stomach is going to be bare." she told her, she didn't want Chris to get the wrong impression. Yes, last night, their conversation had been refreshing and amazing, but she didn't want to read to much into it either. And that dress in her mind did exactly that.
"Put it on," Emilia told her as she pushed it into Alicia's hands and she pulled off her towel, found the right bra to put on, her knickers she'd already had on and put on the dress. "You look incredible." Emilia told her as she looked at her best friend and hoped that she could return the favour she'd done for her two and a half years ago. The reason why she was getting married in three months time to an amazing man. And Chris, she knew him from previous encounters, if someone would be able to keep Alicia's attention and mind at bay, it would be him. The more she thought about it, the better it actually sounded and seemed. "Now go down and have fun." she told her as she nudged her out of their room with five minutes to spare she arrived at the lobby.
'I'm outside.' came the text from Chris as she went to look for him. She found him standing beside a Lexus car. "Hey, you look beautiful," he told her as she went to kiss his cheek. "Thanks, you don't look so bad yourself." she smiled as he held her door open to get in the car. "didn't want to disappoint," he told her as she slid in the car and he closed the door.
He knew that this wasn't just dinner and wanted to make sure that it was okay with her before they left the curb. So when he got inside of his car, he turned to look at her. "I probably should have said this earlier, but I'd like this to be more of a date than dinner." he told her as he looked at her, she looked so beautiful, the bare amount of make up. "you okay with that?" he asked her as she looked at him with a small smile on her lips. "it is," she reassured him, resting her hand on his that rested on the console between them. "Great." he grinned at her as he turned in his seat and drove them towards the restaurant.
"Really?" she asked with a surprised tone to learn that he'd spend nearly four weeks in India with Buddhist monks. "Yea really." he chuckled as she tilted her head to the side with an interesting look. "Must have been eye-opening I imagine," she noted and it was the first time that he got that response when he told someone. "Oh definitely, our head monk, at the time I had such a noisy head." he told her as he looked up at her from across the table. "and I always wanted to talk and talk and he'd say shhh, every time. I learned how to just be with my thoughts and like you said it was eye opening and life changing for me." he told her, wanting to tell her. They'd been at the restaurant for two hours already and they didn't want the night to end as he got to know her and she got to know him.
Never in his entire life had he felt such an instant and right connection than with her. Sure there had been situations close to it, but none as with Alicia. When she looked at him, it felt like she was stripping him naked and not in the wrong sense. But that she stripped him naked in understanding him, in getting him what he was saying. And he had a feeling that it was the same for her by some of the looks that she gave him.
For Alicia, though she didn't want to believe it and fought it, that feeling in the pit of her stomach. It only grew throughout the night, not once had a person got her as Chris did. Sure Emilia was her best friend and understood her better than most people in her life. But with Chris, it felt different like he saw through her, something no other person had ever made her feel. It made her feel vulnerable and dare she say exposed. She loved the saying the stars were aligned when her career finally started to come through. She might have to say the same in years to come about this moment.
"I could probably use that," she admitted with a chuckle as Chris tilted his head with a smile on his lips. "The mind of a writer?" he asked her as she nodded her head. He couldn't understand what she did, he admired her, respected her for what she did. Loved her work, for every word she manages to put down and make stories come to life in the only way she could. But he couldn't imagine what it must be like in her head. "sometimes I feel like my mind is miles ahead of me and I'm left to catch up." she explained to him with a shrug of her shoulders and small shake of her head.
"you meditate?" he asked her as she shook her head at him. "I don't have much patience for that I think. I think my mind just doesn't know how to be quiet," she explained with a smile on her face. "I'd suggest going to India." he teased her as she nodded her head. "Buddism has always fascinated me, maybe that's the way my mind can finally slow down a bit. I've already learned to say no," she admitted as he tilted his head at her in question.
"When my books first came out, I was in my final year of nursing school, I had five more months to go and then I was finished. By the time I graduated they'd already taken over the world by storm. I was under such pressure to get it right, to produce the next big novel, the sequel everyone wanted to read. Reviews and opinions from all over the world came in. So I pushed myself, then I had the chance of living a childhood dream and do another form of story telling by acting. I kept saying yes cause the chances were so good and I wasn't sure if I'd ever get them again. My publisher was on the phone every day demanding to see more of me. a few months ago I finally caved a bit under all the pressure, only Emilia and a few other close friends know. And I knew that always saying yes was going to be undoing of my health. I already regret pushing the four books I've published since the first three came out. I should have taken my time with them as I did with the three first one's." she explained to him as he nodded his head for her to continue.
"I finally told my publisher that if she wanted to settle for bad stories she should continue pushing me. George had a chat with them and told them to back off that good stories could only be written when taken the time for them," she explained to him as he gave her a small smile.
"so you finally said no." he pointed out as she nodded her head. "I did, now I finally have some breathing space again. I'm letting Ganuura and the M'Ark for what they are at the moment, they need some time to breathe as I say, so I can mull them over in my mind. no more pressure from now on." she admitted as she looked up from where she was wiping away an invisible thread.
"I'm glad you did, I can't imagine having to be under that amount of pressure. Sure I have contracts and commitments, but my manager doesn't call me every day to get it done and ready," he told her as he slowly reached out to cover her hand with his. "Neither is mine now, I'm sure my manager now gets most of the calls and she's a very capable woman of telling them off if need be," she told him with a chuckle as he finally took her hand in his and they looked down at their heads as they felt the small shock go through them.
Their moment was broken however when the waiter arrived with their dessert. forest fruit cheese cake for Alicia and Chris moelleux. "So one with a sweet tooth?" she teased him with a cheeky grin in his direction as he let out a sheepish chuckle. "Yes, I have a sweet tooth, although yours doesn't look too bad either," he told her, looking at her plate as she motioned her hand towards it. "Want to try it?" she offered as he gave her a questioning look to which she nodded. Reaching over he took a spoon of what she was having and he had to agree, it did taste amazing. "want to switch?" he asked her with a cheeky grin as she let out a chuckle and tucked a strand of hair that had come lose behind her ear.
"I think that's our cue to leave," Alicia admitted, she'd been having such fun, talking and getting to know Chris, they'd lost sight of time. Everyone around them was already gone, they were the only two left at the restaurant. The lights in the kitchen had just gone out and yet neither of them had wanted to leave yet. "Too bad, I could have stayed a bit longer," he told her as he motioned for the waiter to bring the bill. "Me too," she admitted, which even surprised herself at this point.
"Let me," she told him as they discussed who was going to pay the bill. "Let me," he told her, covering her hand that rested above the bill. Looking in his eyes she finally nodded her head and pulled her hand away. When they got out of the restaurant, the night had cooled significantly and she cursed herself not to have brought a jacket as she shivered a little.
"Cold?" he asked her as he started to shrug off his blazer. "A little it's fine," she assured him when she felt him warm jacket being draped over her shoulders. "Thank you," she whispered, looking at him he nodded his head, fighting the urge to wrap his arm around her and pull her closer.
Opening her side again, she slid in his car. "You free tomorrow?" he asked her as he started the car. "I have a meeting and an audition in the morning, I should be free after noon," she explained to him as he nodded his head. "Want to do something together?" he asked her as she nodded her head. "I'd like that," she whispered, her head turned in his direction.
Though he'd have wanted to kiss her, he didn't want to do it yet, he wanted to wait till tomorrow. He wasn't sure what he was going to get up to, but he wanted to spend more time with her, wanted to see if what they had tonight could be continued tomorrow.
Walking her to her door of the suite she was staying in, she slid in the key card. "You want to come in?" she asked him, opening the door to see the living room in darkness, at least Emilia was asleep. "I shouldn't," he told her with a small shake of his head. "Okay," she whispered, not being able to hide the slightly disappointed tone in her voice.
He'd intended to just walk her to the door and nothing else, but hearing that tone and the look in her eyes. He walked up to her so they were just hidden from the cameras in the hallway and in the small entrance of her suite. Looking up at him, his head slightly bend she hesitated slightly to rest her hand on his chest as they leant closer to each other. Their breaths mingling with each other as the space between their lips got smaller and smaller. Their eyes connected, just before they closed and their lips connected, his stubble brushing against her skin as their lips met in a soft peck and another without breaking away. His hand coming to cup her cheek in his hand as he kissed her lips again.
Never had felt something as right as this to both of them. Just the slight brush of their lips, a small kiss. "I should go," he whispered, resting his head against hers, her head still cupped in his hand as she nodded her head slightly. "I'll see you tomorrow, I'll pick you up at 1," he told her as she nodded her head. He pecked her lips one final time and then he was out of the door, pulling himself away from a night he'd never thought to get to experience. Alicia let herself fall back against the wall beside the door, her hand on her chest. trying to calm her heart. "I saw that." said a voice that nearly made her jump through the roof.
Amelia’s outfits
Amelia at the oscars
Amelia dinner with Chris
Alicia's Instagram. (I try my best to edit pictures, but logically I can't them all to precision so when a picture meets the requirements I'll use that instead of a pic with the real people. It's all about the idea behind it :-p)
Amelia’s wikipedia Page
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Unleash Chaos
Also on AO3
...
Layla opened her eyes, her eyelids feeling as heavy as lead. The ceiling above her was bright white and unfamiliar to her. Heartbeat quickening, she automatically reached for her power as a comforting gesture, only to find that it wasn't there. Layla heard rapid beeping - her heart on a monitor - but she couldn't calm down. Her power was gone, she was in an unfamiliar place, and she had no idea what had happened or how she'd come to be here.
"Layla, shh. It's all right, sweetie. You're safe."
Layla recognised the voice and forced herself to breathe and calm down. There was a whirring sound as the bed she was on was moved electronically, the mattress tilting until Layla was sitting upright. She could see that she was in a hospital room, and looked to her mother sitting beside her.
Jenny smiled at her daughter, reassuring and worried at the same time. "How do you feel?" she asked, brushing Layla's hair back from her forehead gently.
Layla licked her lips, her tongue feeling heavy and dry. "Thirsty. Why... what..."
Jenny hushed Layla again and brought a cup with a straw to her lips. "You just woke up, sweetie. Give it a minute."
Layla drank, grateful that the water was cool. Her skin felt too tight without her power at hand, but the water acted like a balm spreading throughout her body. It would wear off soon, but it helped for the moment. As she drank and swallowed, Layla looked around the room, trying to determine what was going on. An IV drip was beside her and she could feel the needle in her skin now that she was more aware of it. Looking down to her hand, Layla choked on the water.
She was wearing power-repressing cuffs.
"Mum? What's going on?" Layla asked when she had stopped choking.
Jenny stroked Layla's hand gently - the one without the needle - and then gently guided her face to look at her and not at the cuffs. "Will brought you in yesterday evening. He said... he said you didn't handle him breaking up with you very well; he was covered in thorns, sweetie."
Layla's jaw dropped. "I... I don't understand what's going on."
Jenny looked from her daughter's confused face to the door where two Super Bureau agents were standing. They'd said it was to guard the room, but she didn't believe them for a minute. "Will said that you attacked him and tried to kill him. His parents are looking to press charges; it could end up in court."
Layla clenched her hands in her sheets. From her mother's tone, she could tell that it wasn't Mr. and Mrs. Stronghold who were looking to press charges, but rather Jetstream and the Commander, which meant a lengthy and far-too-public trial where her secret identity would be revealed before the courts and cameras. Jetstream and the Commander would get away with their identities intact, of course, just as they always did. Even Mrs. Battle had to change her name after Baron Battle's trial just so she and Warren could live semi-normal lives.
"Do you want to tell me what happened, sweetie?"
Taking a minute to listen to the beat of her heart, Layla inhaled and exhaled, calm and steady. She looked at her mother and lied, "I don't remember."
Jenny didn't seem too pleased at her response, but she had been warned of possible amnesia by the doctors, so she simply nodded. "Of course. Well, you let me know when you remember anything, okay sweetie? Now, I'm sure you're starving; how about I go find us something to eat?"
Layla wasn't really hungry, but she needed time to herself to sort through her thoughts and memories, so she nodded, smiled, and thanked her mother. Jenny squeezed her hand briefly, kissed her forehead, and within a minute, Layla was alone.
Looking out to the two Super Bureau agents standing outside her door, Layla let her eyes droop close and evened out her breathing. She listened to her heartbeat, keeping it calm and steady, and thought back to the previous day.
...
"You're acting weird, Layla. Even weirder than usual," Will amended, trying for a light tone, but failing.
Layla clenched her jaw and forced herself to smile at him. "It's been a big week and I'm not great company today; sorry, Will."
"That's okay. Hey, uh... D'you wanna make out? Or we could have sex! It might make you feel better," Will cajoled, his eyes wide and eager.
"Uh, no," Layla said, sliding away from him slightly. "I'm... on my period."
Will sighed dejectedly and turned his attention back to the TV where a movie was playing. "We might as well be friends instead of girlfriend/boyfriend; we haven't made out or had sex in months, so what's the point?"
Layla fiddled with the bangles on her wrist and didn't answer. A chime sounded on Layla's phone with an incoming text and she looked at it quickly, then offered Will a guilty smile. "It's my mum; she wants me to call her. I'll be right back."
Will made a non-committal sound and continued to watch the movie. Layla escaped the lounge room and headed upstairs to the bathroom as fast as possible. She locked the door and unlocked her phone.
"Why are you calling me now? You know I'm on a date with Will," Layla hissed.
"Hello to you too, hippie," Warren said, smirking. "Honey said it's time."
"You mean it?"
"Would I interrupt your date with the golden boy to lie about this?" Warren asked pointedly, the distaste in his voice evident.
Layla stifled a laugh behind her hand. "Oh, thank fuck! I'm about ready to strangle him myself. How long will it take for you to get here?"
"Five to fifteen minutes. I'll knock on the door so you know."
Layla could hardly contain her excitement. "See you soon. Love you."
"Love you too."
Layla ended the call and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She flushed the toilet for effect and spent a good minute scrubbing and washing her hands, trying to give herself as much time as possible before she had to go downstairs again. Inhaling deeply, Layla hoped that the movie would at least improve in the next five to fifteen minutes.
Ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door: three rapid knocks followed by two individual knocks.
"I'll get it," Layla said, out of the seat before Will could even respond.
Opening the Stronghold's front door, Layla grinned at Warren broadly. He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. Warren pulled his hood on, extra fabric wrapping around to cover the top of his face, holes sewn in so he could still see. Warren held Layla close to kiss her firmly, grinning against her lips when she practically melted against his touch, her hands winding around his shoulders.
"Layla? Who is it?" Will called.
"What do you think, hippie? Should we tell him?" Warren asked as he pulled away, his words hot against her skin.
She grinned and kissed him one more time, pulling back and licking her lips. "It's Chaos."
"What? That doesn't make any - " Will stopped abruptly on seeing the hooded figure in the hallway, their arms wrapped around Layla's waist. "What's going on here?"
"Will, I'm breaking up with you," Layla said, drawing his attention to her almost immediately. "We're on different paths in our lives; you, wanting to be a hero, and me, wanting to kill you."
Will gaped for another second at her revelation before the words actually started to make sense. "You... but... you're my girlfriend."
"Not anymore."
Will couldn't seem to get past his shock; he hadn't even realised that Layla had admitted to wanting to kill him. He turned his attention to the person behind Layla. "Who are you? What have you done to her?"
Warren laughed, cold and cruel. "Well, according to Layla, I've done everything you haven't."
The words made Will flush bright red. "I told you, I have to be on top," he hissed at Layla.
"Yes, I remember far too well," Layla said drily. "Come on, Will. This isn't so bad. I get to kill you, you don't have to join your parents, it's win-win."
Will finally seemed to realise that Layla was serious about killing him. He hovered off the ground, intent on flying at Layla or away from her, she'd never know. There was a sharp tug on his ankle and Will was pulled down abruptly by one of Layla's vines. She smiled at his shocked expression and before Will could say or do anything, the vine began to burrow into his skin.
Will's screams brought the neighbours running and the police weren't far behind. By the time he opened the door, Layla was lying unconscious on the floor, Warren was gone, and Will's eyes were fading from green back to their normal brown.
...
There was an abrupt knock at the hospital door and Layla opened her eyes, disorientated for a moment. She saw the two Super Bureau agents, her mother, and a nurse. Obviously, they didn't want her asleep when people entered the room, despite the cuffs around her wrists.
"A very kind nurse offered to bring your lunch. It's tofu," her mother added with a bright smile, setting her own tray on the table beside Layla and obviously trying not to look annoyed with the agents still watching them.
"How are you feeling, Miss Williams?" the nurse asked as he followed Jenny inside, carrying a tray as well. Behind him, the door was shut by the agents, firm and abrupt.
All that was missing was the sound of a lock, Layla thought to herself.
"About as well as expected while wearing handcuffs."
"From the look of you, you're as harmless as a daisy, but I should know not to judge people by their looks, now shouldn't I?" he mused, glancing over to the Super Bureau agents.
Layla smiled briefly and turned to her mother. "Will I be allowed visitors?"
Jenny sighed and shook her head. "You need to be interviewed first. The only reason I'm allowed in here is because I'm your mother. Well, also because there's a camera in here."
The nurse bumped the tray, knocking the water jug over, drawing the attention of the two women and the two agents outside. "Sorry! Sorry, it was an accident," he called out, putting his hands up when he saw that the Super Bureau agents had pulled out their weapons in response to the sudden noise.
Both agents glanced at each other then returned their weapons to their holsters.
"There's a camera?" Layla asked curiously, looking around the room. In the far corner, a small camera was suspended from the ceiling. "Oh, there it is."
"Would you like me to refill your water jug, Miss Williams?" the nurse offered once he'd finished checking her IV drip.
"Yes, please. If you don't mind?"
"No trouble at all," the nurse said, taking up the jug and leaving without another word.
"I'm sorry about all of this, Mum. I'm hoping it will be cleared up soon. Maybe Will flew into a rosebush?" Layla suggested.
Jenny smothered her laugh with a cough and tried to look serious. "I'm just hoping his parents don't take this to court."
"I'm sure it won't get to that point over a few thorns," Layla said with an optimistic smile. She yawned widely and tried to stretch, her hands coming up short when the cuffs stopped her.
"Are you okay?" Jenny asked, standing to check.
"I forgot they were on," Layla admitted. "I'm pretty tired; I might go to sleep now, if that's all right?"
"Of course. I'll let you rest."
"Why don't you go home and rest as well? You know you don't sleep well if you're not in your own bed," Layla said.
"I don't want to leave you alone," Jenny admitted, glancing to the Super Bureau agents.
"Oh, I'm pretty sure I won't be alone," Layla muttered, looking over to them as well. "But you don't have anything to keep you occupied, and it's going to be boring if I'm spending most of my day sleeping. I'll be all right, Mum. I promise," she added.
Jenny had been in the hospital for almost eighteen straight hours and the idea of a shower and her own bed did sound enticing. She sighed and nodded. "All right. You've got the phone right here next to you. Call me the second you need anything; I'm only ten minutes away," she said, hugging Layla and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"Thanks, Mum. Love you."
"Love you too, sweetie."
Layla waved awkwardly as her mother left the room, and was about to lower the bed when she saw the nurse returning with the water jug. The two Super Bureau agents looked at the nurse's ID badge, face, and then at the water jug suspiciously. The nurse rolled their eyes, put the jug in one of the agent's hands and went to retrieve a cup to prove that the water was just water. Once they'd drunk a full glass, the nurse grabbed the jug once more.
"Now can you open the door so I can keep my patient hydrated or do you want me to pour it on you instead?" the nurse snapped.
The door was opened and closed behind the nurse, who huffed and pulled a face when the two agents had turned their backs.
"How are you feeling, Miss Williams?" the nurse asked, setting the water jug on the table.
"Tired, mostly."
"That's to be expected," the nurse replied, nodding. "Would you like some water now?"
"Yes, please. Thank you."
"Not a problem." Pouring the water into the glass, the nurse set the jug aside, and smiled at Layla. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
"No, thank you. I might just rest now."
"All right. Your buzzer's on the side of the bed, just press it if you need anything."
"Thank you."
"Not a problem."
The nurse closed the door as they left, and Layla closed her eyes to go to sleep.
...
Waking up a few hours later, Layla froze when she realised that she'd been awakened by a sound from inside the room. Reaching out for her buzzer, Layla was a mere millimetre from pressing the button when a soft glow filled the room. She exhaled slowly and glared over at Zach, who was standing under the camera and out of sight of the two Super Bureau agents.
"You scared the hell out of me!"
"Sorry, Lay. Uh, can you pour the water back into the jug? I think Ethan's missing his foot or a lung or something," Zach said, nodding to the cup in front of her. "I'm just hoping it's not in the nurse; Eth isonly ninetypercent positive he only let water into the nurse's cup," he said, wincing.
Layla poured the water back into the jug, then spilled the water out onto the floor, Ethan reforming in a second. He patted his body to ensure he was all there, sighing in obvious relief. Hegrinned at Layla and winked at Zach before melting down again. Making his way over to the door, Ethan slipped under the crack. Zach and Layla both watched as one second the Super Bureau agents were there and the next, they were melted down without a chance to even cry out in surprise. Zach stood on the armchair, reached up to the camera and pulled out the wires that connected the camera to its only source of electricity. Layla watched as the camera's red light faded away to nothing.
Ethan slipped back under the door, returning to Layla's bedsidebefore reforming again. Pushing his glasses up his nose, hegrinned at Layla. "Thirty-four seconds; not too bad, right?"
"It could've been better, but no, not too bad at all," she said with a smile. "Now, would one of you please get these damn cuffs off me?" Layla asked, her smile fading.
"Uh, there's a small problem with that, Lay," Zach admitted, scratching the back of his head.
Layla's expression turned hard and cold. "If you finish that sentence the way I think you're going to finish that sentence, I will kill you with my bare hands."
Ethan sighed. "Genius over here left his work keys at home. Of course, those are the keys with your cuff key. But I think I can work this out; Honey's been encouraging me to practice with padlocks at home," he added, his finger turning translucent and fitting into the small hole on Layla's cuffs.
"Why did you leave your work keys at home, Zach?" Layla groaned.
"Because I wasn't going to work?" Zach said, wincing.
"How do you feel about becoming a widow, Ethan?"
"Not great, honestly. I could settle for some maiming," he replied absent-mindedly, concentrating on the cuffs.
"Hey, that's mean!"
"You forgot the handcuff keys, Zach?! The keys we took two weeks to steal and copy without anyone noticing!"
"I know! I'm sorry."
There was a soft whirr and the handcuffs sprung open, Layla's wrists aching at the sudden loss of weight. She felt for her power immediately, sighing in relief when she felt the vines inside her unfurl. The drugs in the handcuffs would repress her power for a while longer yet, but it wasn't permanent.
"Let's get the fuck out of here. You brought my clothes, right?" Layla asked, looking between them.
"We did," Ethan said with a nod, several drops of water forming on his arm. He transferred each item back to its original state: shirt, jeans, hoodie.
Layla changed into her outfit and they walked out of the room, the floor, the hospital without being stopped.
Warren was waiting outside, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently. He grinned when he saw the three people coming out of the entrance, trying to refrain from getting out of the car and rushing over to see that Layla was all right for himself.
"Has Cee come out yet?" Layla asked as she slid into the passenger seat.
Ignoring her question for the moment, Warren leaned over and kissed her warmly, his hand cupping her face. "Hello to you too, hippie."
Layla smiled. "Sorry; I'm a little anxious to leave. Hello, hottie."
"He's still inside. According to Ace's app, he's doing exactly what we planned; he'll be out soon," Warren added.
They all sat in quiet anticipation, startling when they heard a set of rapid knocks at the door. Ethan opened it when he recognised the pattern, and Layla's nurse looked in at them. "You shouldn't be out of the hospital, Miss Williams."
"Get in the car, Cee, or I'll drag you in myself," Layla said, rolling her eyes.
He laughed, sitting down and closing the door, his curly red hair and freckles returning. "Let's blow this joint. I had to clean up someone's puke."
"Eww," Zach groaned.
"One of the perks of being a nurse, I guess."
Warren ignored both of them and started the ignition, driving out of the parking lot and heading towards the Hive.
...
"...Super-powered and considered very dangerous. If you see this woman, alert the authorities immediately, and Airborne will be called to handle the situation. Do not engage and do not stay in the area."
"Congratulations, you're on every news channel in the state," Adam said, grinning at Layla as she entered the doorway with the other four behind her.
"Has Will made a statement yet?"
"Yes, on Channel Five about ten minutes ago. The usual stuff: villains will lose, heroes will win, etc. It was very inspiring, I recorded it for you," Adam said with another grin.
"I'll watch it once we've won. Who's up for a robbery or three?"
"Are you absolutely sure you don't want to wait a day? You've still got the drugs going through your system," Ethan said, frowning briefly.
"No one will be expecting me to leave hospital and commit a robbery straight away. Everyone knows how long the power-suppressing drugs work, so they'll be expecting me to take time to recover," Layla said. "Where's my mother?" she asked, looking to Warren.
"At Frieda's with Honey. Jenny called me earlier; she's fine," Warren added.
"That's good to hear, thank you," Layla said, rising on her toes to kiss Warren's cheek. "Ready to unleash chaos?"
He grinned back at her. "Born ready."
...
"Breaking news: a group ofnew villains have been revealed and are committing not one, not two, but three robberies at this very minute. We have some amateur video coming in of these events as they happen.
"There have been reports of Airborne going to the rescue, flying to Maxville's Central Bank with his sidekick and fiancée, Shifter. As everyone's aware, Earthstone is still on bedrest and is unable to help at this time," Brian Anderson said, looking worried about the outcome. Then he smiled broadly at the next words on his teleprompter. "We've just received word that the Commander and Jetstream are coming out of early retirement to help their son."
The CCTV cameras were still on, recording, and sending a live feed to the Hive. The cameras were doing the same thing at the Maxville Central Bank where Poison and Fire were, as well as the American Bank of America where Tempest and Carbon Copy were. Acidic was still at the Hive, watching the feeds in the five second delay before relaying them to Channel Five.
"Hey, you guys are lucky: you get to see the death of the Commander or Jetstream! Isn't that cool?" Zach asked the citizens, grinning.
On entering the bank, Blaze had emitted a series of flashes that had caused everyone to seize and drop to the ground, so he and Ethan had more than enough time to get the money and go.
"Blaze, stop antagonising the citizens and help me with this money," Ethan muttered.
"Sorry, Molten."
They'd brought ten empty duffel bags with them, and were halfway through filling the sixth bag when the door burst open, shards of glass and wood flying out.
The Commander stood in the open entrance, hands on his hips, and posing for the required two seconds to have an Effective Entrance. "If you surrender now, I won't hurt you!" he called out generously.
"If you surrender now, we won't kill you," Blaze replied mockingly, smirking.
"You keep filling the bags, I'll deal with him; go for the fifties and hundreds, would you?" Molten added.
"Small change is less conspicuous."
"We're robbing a national bank, not a corner store, Blaze."
Conceding with a nod, Blaze grabbed handfuls of the fifty and hundreddollar notes, shoving them into the duffel bag. Satisfied they weren't going to come out of their robbery practically broke, Molten headed towards the Commander, who was only just walking into the bank itself.
The Commander hadn't changed much over the years, apart from his hair greying and the fact that he had gained a little more weight than muscle. It was obvious that he believed that he would win this fight easily. The Commander didn't seem too impressed by Molten, which worked just fine for him. He'd grown taller since Sky High, but he was still lithe and didn't look strong enough to lift a car, let alone land an effective punch. Molten's looks had caused several people to underestimate him over the years, and he knew that now would be no different.
The Commander charged, fist drawn back to punch the daylights, highlights, and any other lights out of him. Molten grinned and melted down at the last second, the Commander stumbling forward with his own momentum, tripping over a citizen who cried out in pain. "Ah, sorry!" the Commander said with a wince.
He tried to remember the citizen's face so he could give them an autographed photo later; that should avoid a law suit. Hopefully, at least.
Molten reformed again, waiting for the Commander to realise. He grinned when the older man stopped apologising to the citizen and turned to face him again.
"You... melt," the Commander said, frowning as the words niggled at his brain.
Molten's grin broadened. "Yes sir. Would you like a practical demonstration?"
"Now who's being antagonising?" Blaze muttered from the registers, still filling the bags.
The Commander couldn't work out why this villain seemed so familiar and decided he'd think about it some more - or, more realistically, ask Josie - once he'd defeated said villain. Rushing forward again, he kept an eye on the villain to ensure that he wasn't going to melt again, or that he'd trip and fall again (he'd have to get the news channels to delete that if any video footage was shown). The villain didn't do anything; he didn't move, didn't dodge, didn't run away, or even raise an arm to defend himself, he simply stood there. It was disconcerting, but the Commander didn't stop his tactic - if a villain decided to stand still while he was readying to punch them, then it just made it easier for him.
He had barely brushed his knuckles against the villain's face when they started to melt again. As he melted, so too did the Commander. Screaming in a mix of surprise and fear at the sudden change, the Commander's scream was cut off as he was turned into a puddle of water and his throat, tongue, and larynx disappeared.
Molten reformed a moment later, brushing off his clothes and leaving the puddle of water behind. He calmly headed back to Blaze and continued to fill the bags.
...
Jetstream was being sucked into a tornado outside of the American Bank of America and couldn't get into the bank in the first place. She struggled against the winds, but every time she thought she had reached the eye of the storm, it moved and sucked her right back in again. She soon stopped fighting and went limp, hoping that would stop the tornado or make the creator of said tornado think she'd died. The tornado started to die down after a few seconds and she flew out of the roaring winds straight towards the bank doors.
She wasn't strong like her husband, but Jetstream had a utility belt for things like this, and the glass was broken mere seconds before she flew through the door. Stopping for a pose - one second: Effective When Urgent - Jetstream surveyed the bank. Citizens were on the floor, face-down with their hands on their head, but she couldn't see the villains. Duffel bags of money were spread out across the bank floor, next to citizens of different shapes and sizes, but nothing that screamed 'villain'.
"Come out, you cowards!" Jetstream called, hoping to provoke them into revealing themselves. Most villains hated being called coward.
There was silence, though one or two citizens whimpered in response.
Deciding on a different tactic, Jetstream walked between the citizens and grabbed the duffel bags instead. "I guess since the villains have left, they won't mind the money being put back in the bank."
"They're gone?" one of the citizens asked hopefully.
Another citizen lifted their head briefly, looking over to Jetstream with wide eyes. Somewhere in the crowd, a baby started to cry.
"Can we get up now? Please?"
"If they're not here; are we free?"
Those questions seemed to start an avalanche of voices until Jetstream could hear nothing else. She almost wished for Boomer's power just to quiet them in that instant.
"Everyone, please get up! Just... stay where you are. The villains may be among you," she added, wincing when she thought of the panic that could follow from her words.
The citizens stood carefully, slowly, and looking at each other suspiciously.
"Could everyone please line up against the wall?" Jetstream asked, indicating to the side wall.
"Jetstream ma'am, please, my baby needs to be changed," a woman said urgently, her baby wailing its displeasure extremely loud for such tiny lungs.
As she had no idea what the villains' powers were, Jetstreamwas reluctant to let anyone leave, but even she could smell the baby's diaper from a good metre away.
"There's a parents' room over there; please leave the door open and stay in sight."
"Of course, thank you, Jetstream, thank you so much," the woman said, hefting her diaper bag over her shoulder and heading to the parents room, trying to calm her baby at the same time.
Jetstream sighed and looked from the woman to the rest of the bank's employees and customers. "Who is the bank manager here?"
"Th-that would be me, J-jetstream," a large balding man said, putting his hand up hesitantly.
"Can you open the vault? I want to check that the villains aren't hiding in there."
"O-of c-course, Jetstream," the man said, walking to the vault and unlocking it with a passcode and thumbprint scan.
There was a soft hiss of air as the vault opened, and the manager pulled the door open the rest of the way. Jetstream looked inside cautiously but saw no one at a first glance. Looking to the bank manager - who was trying to look over her shoulder unsuccessfully - Jetstream indicated to the open vault. "Can you tell me if anything's missing?"
Jetstream didn't trust anyone in the bank - even the bank manager - and refused to go into a high-security lockable vault alone.
The bank manager licked his lips nervously and ran a hand over his smooth scalp. "A-are you sure, Jetstream? W-what if t-they're around the c-corner?" he whispered, eyes wide with fear.
"I'll be right behind you," Jetstream said, confident and certain. When that didn't seem to help the scared man, she added, "Go on, man; don't you want to be a hero?"
Citizens might not always like or trust superheroes - especially during a hostage situation - but that didn't stop them from wanting to be one themselves. The bank manager's eyes widened a bit more, glazing over, probably as he thought of the news headlines: heroic bank manager saves the day... with Jetstream! After a moment of consideration, he nodded, gulped, and stepped inside the vault, Jetstream following him.
Jetstream checked the rest of the vault - no sign of life - as the bank manager hummed and hawed, checking the shelves and locked security deposit boxes.
"J-jetstream? This b-box has b-been d-damaged," the bank manager said anxiously, pointing to one security deposit box with acid burning a hole in the corner.
Jetstream frowned at the sight, trying to remember which villain used acid, even as she moved closer to inspect the damaged door. "What was in this deposit box?"
The bank manager stammered something about computer ledgers and client privacy. Jetstream sighed heavily; of course he'd bring up the bank's red tape now.
Taking a thin device from her utility belt, Jetstream held it to the security deposit box, pressed the button, and waited until she heard a faint click. While she didn't like villains for the most part (apart from, you know, giving her job security), their technological designs could be easily replicated and came in handy more often than most heroes would expect. The door swung open soundlessly and Jetstream pulled out the thin metal box it contained, holding her device against the lid and pressing the button once more, another click sounding. Opening the lid, Jetstream frowned at the contents, more to the point, the fact that it still had contents.
Turning abruptly - the bank manager must be one of the villains! - Jetstream came face to face with Earthstone a second too late, and was knocked clear across the vault, crashing into the metal walls and collapsing to the ground, blood pooling around her head.
Carbon Copy whistled to himself as he shifted from Earthstone's form back into his usual self. Tempest entered the vault a moment later, holding the baby at an awkward angle.
"You had to make the baby shit itself, didn't you?" she hissed at him, lightning flashing in her eyes.
Carbon smirked at her. "It was more realistic."
"I almost puked, you asshole. This is a brand new outfit! Get rid of the baby, and the rest of them too," Tempest snapped, thunder rolling outside.
Carbon rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically. "Fine," he groaned.
With hardly a thought, every single employee and customer - every single copy of Carbon Copy - disappeared.
With another hearty whistle and a grin at Tempest, Carbon picked up Jetstream's unlocking device. "Let's get rich quick, shall we?"
...
Poison watched as comprehension filled the faces of several bank customers as they recognised her from the news. She smiled at them warmly and continued into the bank, Fire beside her, their arms linked together casually. Fire held the door open for an exiting customer and then locked it behind them, the noise not loud enough to be heard, but the security guard witnessed the action, standing up from their seat in surprise.
"Hey, you can't do that!" the guard called, going for their radio. As the bank was in the heart of Maxville - protected by Airborne, and the Commander and Jetstream before him, and Captain Stronghold before them - security guards hadn't had their own weapons in years.
Fire smirked. Neither he nor Poison moved or replied. They simply stood there and watched. The security guard gasped as their body became hotter and hotter and hotter still. Sweat poured off them in buckets, then their clothes started to smoke, and within seconds, the security guard was on fire and burning to death, screaming the whole way down.
Silence reigned as all that remained of the security guard was a pile of black ash, the bank customers and staff realising that they were about to be robbed and there was a very real possibility that they would be killed long before anyone arrived to help.
Poison smiled at the group at large, not even caring that three separate bank tellers were pressing their silent alarms frantically and repeatedly. "Hello, everyone! My name is Poison, and this is Fire. We'll be robbing you this evening," she said, her voice pleasant.
"All of you, move to stand against the doors, please," Fire called out, his voice just as calm and pleasant as Poison's.
Hesitantly, and a little confused - hadn't Poison only just escaped from hospital?! - the bank customers headed past Fire and Poison and towards the doors. Everyone gave the remains of the security guard a wide berth, a few turning pale when they glanced over despite themselves.
"They have the message by now," Poison said, smiling at the bank tellers. "I think that's quite enough, don't you?" she added.
"Stand against the doors with the rest of them, please," Fire said, burning the handle off the staff entrance and swinging the door open for them, gesturing. "Go quickly and quietly and you won't be hurt," he added when the first teller hesitated.
They filed out, almost running to pass by Fire that much faster.
Poison smiled over at Fire. "I told you please would work."
Fire snorted. "I'm positive that burning someone to death did the job faster than please would have. But it is nice to get people to do my bidding without the usual screaming and pleading for mercy," he admitted. "I'd prefer that you were getting the money, by the way, Poison. Bullet-proof glass and all that," Fire muttered, slinging his backpack off his shoulders and unzipping it to reveal more bags.
Poison raised an eyebrow at him. "You honestly think Airborne will be coming here with a gun? He'd probably shoot himself," she said, rolling her eyes.
"It'd save us the trouble," Fire said with a smirk.
"Oh, believe me, it's no trouble at all," Poison said sweetly, smiling. "We can both fill the bags while we wait, how about that?"
Fire nodded and handed her a bag.
By the time Airborne and Shifter arrived five minutes later, Poison and Fire had filled all of the bags and were contemplating going for the vault early. They both knew the importance of keeping to their schedule, but it was boring sitting around waiting for the hero to arrive.
Airborne stopped abruptly outside the bank, seeing the citizens lined up against the glass doors. Flying straight into the bank was out of the question, obviously. Looking up, Airborne winced when he saw that the bank was at the bottom of a fifty-storey building. It was going to be painful for him, but better him than the citizens.
"Shifter, hang on tight, we have to go in from the top," Airborne called, flying up into the air.
Shifter tried to say something, but her squeaky voice was lost in the rush of wind. Sucking in a deep breath, Airborne held a fist in front of him and flew straight down at the building's rooftop, smashing his way through fifty floors of concrete, insulation, light fittings, electrical wires, desks and other office furniture.
At the first distance crashing noise, Fire looked up at the intact ceiling and frowned. "Is he... going through the whole building? Why didn't he just go through the second floor?"
Poison laughed, loud and bright. At the front doors, a few people flinched in response to the unexpected noise. They were all obviously listening intently, relief flooding through them at the possibility of being saved. Saved by Airborne, no less. The reality that they were going to witness the death of their beloved hero instead made Poison laugh even harder and Fire turned his frown in her direction.
"What else was in those power-suppressing drugs?" Fire muttered, nudging Poison to stop her laughter.
Poison wiped away tears and waved off his concern. "I'm fine. It's just... They think they're going to be saved," she said, laughing again.
Fire shook his head and kissed her, muffling her laughter. Her laughter faded against his lips and they pulled away when the final crash sounded around them. Airborne had finally arrived.
Airborne was bright red, his hand was killing him, and he was coughing miserable. Still, he tried to pose as he'd been taught, but ultimately could only pull off: Not Effective When Coughing Through a Mouthful of Cement and Carpet.
Shifter, under his suit, poked her head out from his collar. "You okay?" she asked, concerned.
Airborne coughed once more, finally dislodging that last piece of cement, and breathed a few times to clear his... everything. Taking Shifter from his suit, Airborne set her down beside him and did a quick survey of their surroundings. The citizens were all still pressed up against the glass doors, and Poison and Fire were standing by several full bags of cash.
"Why haven't you run already?" Airborne asked, frowning.
"We wanted a fight," Fire replied. "Are you going to give one to us, or do we have to schedule a fucking appointment with you?"
"Swear jar," Poison teased, her lips quirked up into a grin.
"How much swearing does five million get me?" Fire asked, glancing to the bags beside him.
"You? About a year," she said, grinning outright now.
"Are you... flirting?"
"Yes, Airborne. I understand it's a foreign concept for you, but perhaps you'd like to take notes? I'm sure Shifter would appreciate it," Poison said, smiling sharply at them.
Shifter, who had tried to sneak over to the citizens, stopped and turned to face them again. "What are you talking about?"
"Would you please shift back? It's ridiculous trying to talk to you when you sound like you've swallowed a whole birthday party full of helium balloons," Poison said, rolling her eyes.
"Bite me," Shifter replied.
"How about I barbecue you instead?" Fire asked, smirking.
There was a pop and Shifter was standing in front of them, her purple outfit a stark contrast to Airborne's classic white, red, and blue. Shifter glowered at Fire harshly, who just smirked back at her in response.
"Really, Shifter? You went with eggplant, maroon, and violet? I'm almost regretting asking you to shift," Poison said, wincing.
Shifter turned bright red - the colour far more unflattering against the purple - and didn't look at Airborne when she replied. "My Hero chose the colours."
"And the design, so I see. Why does Shifter need a cape, Airborne?"
"Could we get back on topic, please?" Fire muttered, though he was enjoying Airborne's look of indignation and his outraged hiss 'you said you liked it!' that everyone in the bank could hear.
"Of course," Poison said, smiling warmly. "Now, Airborne, Shifter. How long have you been dating?"
"Five months," Shifter replied automatically, her face turning pale as she realised what she'd said, what she'd admitted to Airborne's very recent ex-girlfriend.
"Oh, don't look so worried, Shifter, it's all right. I've known from the very start. Fire and I have been dating for three," Poison said pleasantly, smiling at Fire.
"What?!" Airborne exclaimed, his jaw dropping. "B-but, why..."
"Why did I keep dating you? Oh, Airborne, if you don't know the answer by now, then you never will," she said, shaking her head.
Beside Airborne, Shifter was starting to feel a little warm. She adjusted her outfit, annoyed that the breathable material didn't seem to be letting her breathe, but it didn't seem to help. Her whole body felt warm and Shifter was sure that she was starting to sweat very visibly. Now her deodorant wasn't working either?!
"Have you ever heard of the trolley dilemma, Airborne?" Fire asked.
Airborne looked confused. "Uh, yeah?"
"So who would you save: a group of strangers or the person you love?" he asked pointedly.
At the doors, some people started sobbing quietly, realising that they were getting hot and their internal body temperatures were rising. Every single person remembered how the security guard had died screaming and they did not want to die that way.
Airborne seemed to realise the problem when he saw someone's shoes smoking and beside him, Shifter was gasping for air, her face bright red and covered in sweat.
"Who do you choose, Airborne? You have thirty seconds to decide," Fire called, screams of pain following his words.
"Please save us!" someone called.
"Please!"
"Airborne, please!"
"Save us!"
"Help us, dear god, please help us!"
"Airborne, save us!"
"You're right; real citizens are more annoying than the dummies at Sky High," Poison murmured, shaking her head.
"Twenty seconds, Airborne," Fire called out.
Beside him, Shifter was gasping and on the floor, her body shimmering with heat.
"Fifteen seconds."
The screams from the citizens became louder, desperate and shrill. One person's clothes caught alight and the others tried desperately to beat out the flames, only succeeding in burning their own hands instead.
"Ten seconds, Airborne."
Another person's clothes caught alight and this time, no one tried to help.
"Make a decision, Airborne, or they all die!"
"The citizens!" Airborne screamed, his voice cracking as he sobbed, trying desperately to hold Shifter and not hurt himself at the same time. "Save the citizens!"
Fire smiled unpleasantly. In an instant, the fires were gone, the heat receded, and every single person in the bank was fine. Even those with burnt hands were no longer sore. There were a few hiccuping sobs, a few sniffles, and more than enough tears to fill a mug.
"Turn back to the doors before I change my mind," Fire snapped.
"Shifter? You're okay?" Airborne asked, relief flooding him as he held her tight.
"You... you chose the citizens? Over me?" Shifter hissed, shoving away from him and glaring. "What the fuck, Wi- Airborne?"
"I... I'm sorry. I had to. They..."
"The citizens always come first," Poison said lightly, though her expression was harsh. "Isn't that right, Airborne?"
Shifter looked away from them, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Shifter... Babe, please," Airborne said quietly, his eyes wide and pleading.
Shifter looked back at him, still looking pissed. "We're discussing this later," she muttered, then stood next to Airborne once more.
Fire glanced at Poison when he felt a certain pattern being tapped against his thigh. He grinned and then turned his attention back to Shifter and Airborne. "You realise the cameras are still on, right? You're not going to give your fans a tear-jerking reunion hug?"
"Go on, Airborne. They all know you've been dating for five months now, so why wouldn't you hug your girlfriend?" Poison added, smirking.
"I can burn everyone to a crisp instead?" Fire offered, his hands lighting up with flames.
Shifter didn't see what the big deal was, nor why Fire and Poison were so insistent on them hugging. But it was better than being burnt to a crisp, so she let Airborne wrap his arms around her. She was still hurt that he'd chosen the citizens over her, but being in his arms made her feel a little better.
His utility belt dug into her sharply, but Shifter didn't dare complain when Airborne was already so upset and likely to sulk later. She heard a soft gurgling noise, Shifter frowning and looking up at Airborne. She saw the green colour to his eyes first and then saw green lines working their way up out of his neck. Shifter realised that the sharp pain from his utility belt wasn't from his utility belt after all, and pulled away from Airborne to see a vine growing out of his body.
"What the... Airborne? Oh. Oh my god. Airborne, no! Please. What... Stop it! Stop it!" she cried out, realising that the power-suppressing drugs must have worn off.
Poison just laughed, watching as the vine worked out of Airborne's body. "Same dilemma for you, Shifter. Citizens or Airborne?"
Shifter could hardly see the citizens through her tears, her throat tight as she tried to think. She couldn't think though, couldn't bring herself to even imagine. Blood coated her hands, her stupid outfit, and she tried to tear the cape off to put pressure on the wounds, almost strangling herself instead. Shifter ignored the sound of Poison laughing and concentrated only on Airborne, desperately trying to do something. Whether she was trying to push the vines back into him to stop them from splitting his whole body open, or she was trying to keep pressure on the multiple wounds, not even Shifter knew.
"Five seconds, Shifter. Who do you choose?" Poison asked. "Three, two - "
"Airborne! I choose Airborne. Please, stop doing this to him!" Shifter sobbed.
There was a squelching sucking sort of sound that almost made Shifter gag, but then Airborne was gasping for air, sitting up alive and without the vines bulging their way out of his body. Not caring what anyone else thought - whether the citizens were alive or not, or even those watching on TV - Shifter pulled Airborne close and kissed him firmly.
"Ready, Fire?" Poison asked, her voice cutting between their kiss like a knife.
Fire smirked. "Born ready."
With that, the citizens and Shifter burned to death, and Airborne was stuck in place with a vine, forcing him to watch every second and hear every scream. When they were nothing but ash and dust, the vines worked their way out of Airborne - completely this time.
Fire and Poison had emptied the vault of its contents before Airborne had even finished dying, and they stepped over the mess of skin and blood and bones to leave the bank with their bags of loot and money in hand.
Unlocking the front door, Fire stepped over the line of ash and held it open for Poison, who smiled at him sweetly and walked out of the bank a very rich woman.
A car pulled up abruptly across from them, the window winding down automatically. Jenny waved them over. "Hurry up, before they get over their shock. Honey said you've got a minute. The timer's counting down."
Poison and Fire worked quickly, grabbing every bag they'd filled and putting them in the car, sliding into their seats just as Jenny's timer went off.
Jenny didn't wait for Poison to turn off the alarm, she simply tookoff down the road, glancing at the rubber tyre marks she'd left behind. "Fire, if you'd be so kind?"
"Of course, Jenny," Fire replied.
Behind them, the building set alight, the flames bright red and casting a wild brilliant glow across Maxville. Then, thanks to Airborne's attempt to get into the bank and destroying the building's internal structure, the building itself collapsed down into the bank, thoroughly destroying anything that might have remained.
Poison laughed so hard that she almost blacked out.
...
Brian Anderson stared at the footage that had played on their screens, his jaw hanging open in shock.
The puddle of water that Molten had turned the Commander into had been trampled by citizens that were eager and desperate to get out of the bank after their ordeal, not realising they were spreading their beloved superhero across the ground.
Jetstream had died long before Tempest's hurricane had disappeared, the light leaving her eyes even obvious on the bank's black and white camera. Now, somehow, emergency services were reporting that there weren't any citizens in the bank.
Airborne and Shifter had been killed viciously by two cold-hearted villains. What was left of the beloved Hero and his girlfriend was now burning to a crisp as the building collapsed down on top of the bank itself.
A sob drew Brian Anderson out of his shock and he realised that everyone in the studio looked just as shocked as he felt. He looked to the camera, glancing to the teleprompter out of pure habit. What he saw written there made Brian Anderson swear on live TV for the first time in his fifteen-year career.
"Ladies and gentleman, we have just had a report that someone broke into Earthstone's hospital room earlier today. Earthstone did not survive the fatal attack on his life," Brian Anderson reported, hoping that his voice wasn't shaking as much as his hands were. "For the first time since Captain Stronghold saved Maxville back in 1919, the villains have won. Jetstream, the Commander, Airborne, and Airborne's girlfriend are all dead."
There was another sob in the studio, accentuating the pause Brian Anderson took before he looked into the camera, his face pale and serious.
"Who will save us now?"
...
The end.
Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it.
#sky high#nv fanfic#layla/warren#warren x layla#warren layla sky high#villains#superheroes#Super powers#supervillains
18 notes
·
View notes
Text
Out Of Darkness, Cometh Light (Prologue)
SUMMARY: Killian Jones is an actor. A hot actor. A hot, famous actor. A hot, famous, drunken actor. His reputation is in ruins and they're running out of options to turn the public's view on him around. Enter Emma Swan. The actress who's agreed to date him to help correct his image. But what happens when two people meet and realise that they're just as broken as the other. {Fake dating/AU}
Also available on: A03 FF.net Wattpad
People who have requested to be tagged: @teamhook @m98h @its-about-bloody-time-cs @onceuponaprincessworld (if you would like to be tagged, please let me know.)
Flashes. Flashes everywhere and from every single direction. She couldn’t keep track of them all. It was continuous and it never seemed to stop. “Emma.” “Emma Swan.” “Over here Miss Swan.” “This way. Here.” “Shows us the dress.” “Look over your shoulder.” “Gorgeous Emma.” “Here Emma. Right down the middle.” The shouts were also coming from every single direction and it was giving Emma a good old migraine. She hated red carpets. She’s never been one to be the focus of attention. So why did she go into acting? Well that was the first question she got asked in the interview line.
“Emma. It’s lovely to see you. Welcome to the MTV Movie and TV Awards.”
“Thank you for having me. It’s great to be here.”
“So, you haven’t been an actor for that long. How did you get into the industry and what made you fall in love with acting?” The interviewer asked her. She smiled that famous smile before answering the question.
“I had a rough upbringing.” Emma started. She was holding her hands in front of her, keeping them as still as possible. These people were vultures, if they knew she was nervous, that would be it. “I think I just loved that I could escape and be someone different. That I didn’t need to be myself. And now, as I’m becoming more experienced, I’m loving the research side of things and building up these characters. That’s what keeps me going now. I love that it’s not just a job, it’s an art. And I think I’ve become kinda obsessed with being the best I can be at my art.” Emma laughed and gave another smile. Man she needed a shot. Or two. Or maybe ten.
“And what brings you to the MTV Movie and TV Awards this evening?”
“Well I’m presenting the award for Best Actor in a Movie this evening.”
“And who are you hoping to win?” Emma laughed.
“All of the actors that are nominated tonight deserve to win. They’re all incredible people and work extremely hard. They all deserve the nomination” Emma finished and shook the hand of the interviewer.
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Miss Swan” the Interviewer smiled as he let go of her hand.
“The pleasure is all mine.” One down. 14 more interviews to go. Most of the interviewers with the same thing. Who was she wearing? What was she looking forward to this evening? What are her upcoming projects?
After what felt like an eternity, Emma had finally finished the interview line. As she shook hands with the last interviewer, she made her way over to the fans that were standing by the entrance to the theatre. She signed well over a hundred autographs and took pictures with as many people as she could. It wasn’t until Regina, Emma’s manager, was tugging on her arm to get her into the theatre in time for the Awards to start, that Emma gave one last picture before she waved goodbye to them all.
“Thank you guys.” Emma said as the last picture was taken. The chorus of ‘We love you Emma’ rang up as Regina tugged on her arm once more. She waved once last time, blew them a kiss and then turned to walk away.
“The show starts in 10 minutes!” Regina whispered and led her into the theatre.
“I know but they’ve all be out then since yesterday. Yesterday Regina! That’s mad.” Emma exclaimed.
“Yes and I would have been mad at you if I hadn’t had found you in time. This is a big deal Emma.”
“I know, I know” Emma replied and gave her manager a shy smile. “I’m sorry. But I’m here now.”
It was at this moment that a man wearing designer jeans, a white t-shirt and a black blazer stumbled into Emma and pushed her to one side, almost knocking her to the ground, if it hadn’t had been for the wall that she fell into. Pushing a girl anyway is bad show, but pushing a girl who’s wearing 6 inch heels and who’s already had shots, is even worse. Once Emma had regained her balance, she twirled around to face the man.
“What the hell is your problem?” Emma snapped. He stopped walking and turned around to face her. He was handsome. Really handsome. And if Emma hadn’t been pissed off at him, then she’d probably admit it to herself.
“Sorry Princess.” He mumbled and gave her a smile. A drunken smile. He was completely and utterly hammered.
“Emma. Come on.” Regina said and pulled on her arm.
“No.” Emma said. She’d blame the alcohol in her system later for the scene she was about to make. “I said what the hell is your problem.” She took one step towards the man and put her hands on her hips. She wasn’t going to back down. However, she couldn’t help wonder why this man looked so familiar. Regina gave her another tug on her arm to leave, but she stood her ground. Regina gave up trying and in the end, stood behind Emma and crossed her arms waiting for the scene her client was making to disappear.
“Killian.” A man’s voice said behind them. She turned around to face another man who she didn’t recognise. Regina, however, did.
“Robin, it’s good to see you.” Regina greeted the man but the green orbs that were Emma’s eyes hadn’t left the glistening ocean’s that were Killian’s. Killian Jones. Now she knows why she’s heard of him. The renowned ‘bad boy’ of the acting industry. A successful child actor who turned his reputation upside down and inside out in recent years. He also happens to be the man she’s presenting the award with later in the evening.
“You too Regina.” Robin said and smiled. “And now you’ll have to excuse me, but I’ve got to sober him up” Robin pointed at Killian and started walking towards him.
Robin’s arm went around his neck, trying to steer him towards the fresh air that he so desperately needed. “Wait, wait, wait” Killian slurred over his words and turned back around to face Emma who was still starring him down. “I think the pretty lady might want to join me.”
“The ‘pretty lady’ will kick you in the balls if you come anywhere near me.” Emma said and crossed her arms over her chest. At this point, she’d forgotten that she was indeed at an award show and they’d be making a scene.
“Emma. Come on.” Regina hissed and pulled on her arm one last time. And this time, Emma relented and let her manager lead her away.
“What a jackass.” Emma said as Regina led her to their seats.
“Yes but what you’re going to do is sit here, relax, enjoy the show, and when it comes to presenting the award with him later, you will smile and present it.”
“Oh I’m okay presenting the award with him, as long as he doesn’t knock me over again or flirt with me.”
“With the amount of alcohol that man has consumed, I wouldn’t rule that out.” Regina replied and smoothed out the wrinkles in her own dress. “But if I know Robin, he’ll sort him out. Killian’s just changed managers to him.”
“And how do you know Robin?” Emma questioned and then looked over at her friend.
“We may have gone out a few times.” Regina shrugged and took a sip from her drink.
“Seriously! How long ago? Was it recent? How long were you together?” Emma shot questions at Regina.
“Okay no. It wasn’t anything serious. Just two friends, having fun.” Emma laughed at that answer.
“Regina Mills. You naughty girl.” Emma teased as the lights dimmed in the theatre, ready for the show to start.
The MTV Movie and TV Awards were always a relatively fun award show. It wasn’t as serious as the Oscar’s or the Emmy’s, but then not on the same scale as the Kids Choice Awards. As the show neared the climax, Emma knew that she’d soon be called to present the award with Douchebag Jones.
As the awards went to the final commercial break, Emma spotted in the corner of her eye, a woman in a black top, and white shirt approaching.
“Emma Swan, we need to backstage now.” The woman said as Emma stood up and straightened out the bottom of her dress.
“How do I look?” She asked Regina as she twirled around.
“Perfect. Now go show the world who Emma Swan is.”
Having only been in the business for the last 3 years, Emma was a relative new comer. She shot to fame after starring in a successful comedy film. Her acting career, was almost like a fairy-tale. The first acting role she got, she shot to stardom. The woman led her to a set of chairs backstage and told her to wait there until she was called. So Emma sat and waited for the inevitable.
“Hey there Princess” Killian said and sat next to her. Emma said nothing and then Killian huffed. “Oh come on. You need to speak to me at some point, otherwise there are going to be millions of people disappointed when we walk out there and you refuse to say anything.” He paused but Emma said nothing. “Okay right. I don’t do this often, so treasure it love. I want to apologise for my earlier actions.”
“I highly doubt that you’re saying that because you mean it. More like your manager has threatened you if you don’t apologise to me.”
“Oh hey she speaks.” Killian grinned, but his face dropped when Emma shot him a look. “Right no. I mean it. Truly. I shouldn’t have knocked you over, I shouldn’t have been a jackass to you and I probably shouldn’t have had this much to drink.”
“Emma. Killian. We’re one minute out. Stand here please.” They both were ushered into position behind the opening doors, ready to walk out and great the masses. Emma was handed an envelope with the words “Best Actor” printed on the front. She took a breath.
5. 4. 3. 2. 1. They were off. The doors opened and they started walking out to meet the camera’s, when Killian grabbed Emma’s arm and laced it through his.
“Don’t read anything into this love. This is what all the presenters do.” He said, just loud enough so that she could hear, and no one else. “Plus, I don’t want you falling over again.”
They reached the microphone situated in the middle of the stage, but before they started talking, they both smiled and waved to the roaring crowd that greeted them.
“Well, this is it folks. The end of the evening.” Killian read off the teleprompter.
“No hang on.” Emma turned to Killian and smiled. “We still have one more award to present this evening. The award for Best Movie Actor.”
“And here are your nominations.” The nominations reel started playing behind them on the screens. Killian took this moment to turn to Emma once more. He seemed like he was contemplating what he should do. Emma kept her eyes on the crowd and used this time to wave to the fans that she could hear calling her name on the top balcony. Killian took a step closer to Emma and whispered in her ear.
“I think I might change your nickname from Princess to Swan. It’s shorter and I you’re too scary to be a princess.”
“Can you step away from me please.” Emma whispered back and shot him the same look she’d been giving him since she’d met him earlier that evening. The look that told him to back the fuck away and leave her alone. “People are starring.”
“Of course they’re starring.”
“Step. Away.” Emma said. She tried her hardest not to let her voice waver, but at the same time she was pissed. Tonight was supposed to be a great night. This was her first award she was ever presenting and it was a big deal, especially for a young woman who had been an unknown for the majority of her life. She had never had a real sense of belonging until she started acting. But now this douchebag was ruining everything.
5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
“And the winner for Best Actor goes to…” Emma put on her best fake smile as she opened the envelope.
“The one and only, Bradley Cooper.” Killian continued and started clapping. The music started up as the actor made his way onto the stage. Both Emma and Killian handed over the ‘popcorn’ trophy and then stepped to the side so that Bradley could make his acceptance speech.
And that was it. The show was over. As the lights in the theatre slowly came on, Emma walked down the stairs at the front of the stage and made a dash for Regina.
“Let’s get out of here.” Emma said and this time, it was her pulling on her manager to follow. They had made it all the way out of the theatre and outside to the car that was picking them up before she heard her name being called behind her.
“Swan, wait.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Emma.”
“Don’t call me that either.”
“So what the hell am I supposed to call you?”
“Nothing. Because you don’t get the privilege.”
“I’ve hardly done anything.”
“But you’ve done something.” Emma seethed and twirled around to face him. She looked at the faces of the immediate surroundings and then calmed her voice down. “You don’t get it.”
“I don’t get what.” Emma turned towards the car again Killian got there before her.
“I’ll wait in the car Emma” Regina said and got in the car that awaited them. Emma sighed and ran her hands through her golden locks.
“What don’t I get Emma?” Killian asked again. He’d sobered up in the last few hours, so Emma was grateful that should could have a semi-normal conversation with him without him slurring over his words.
“I’ve worked my ass off over the last few years to be here today. You started acting so long ago that you probably don’t even remember the struggle of actually making a living out of this job. You don’t have anything to prove, but I still do. And today…” Emma paused and sighed. “Today you could have ruined it all for me.”
“What the hell do you mean Emma?”
“Did you not see the looks we were getting and the people whispering? God knows what they’re fucking saying about us.”
“So what. You’re not stupid Emma. You know that people write shit all the time that’s not true. That’s half of this job. Lies.”
“You don’t have anything to prove. I still do. I have people still thinking that I’m going to fail, but I can’t.” Emma paused. That heat of the argument finally getting to her. She swallowed. “I just can’t. I can’t fail.”
Emma starred down Killian one last time, willing for him to say something. Anything. Emma Swan doesn’t open up to people, let alone someone who she’s known for a few hours and who’s she argued with for half of that. But the truth is that Killian didn’t know what to say. And as the blonde haired beauty got into the car with her manager and drove away, Killian couldn’t help but realise that she was just as broken as he was.
#cs ff#captain swan#ouat#once upon a time#once upon a time fanfiction#ouat fanfiction#cs#cs fanfiction#cs fanfics#therollyjodger#therollyjodger ff#therollyjodger fanfiction#emma swan#killian jones#captain hook#Emma x Killian#hook and emma#Killian and Emma
10 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
wardenk4-blog
Untitled
fansiegracie
Fansie
teesee54
Untitled
retiresatisfied
RetireSatisfied
yeeholy
╰(YEE)╯